Demons
by Emily Blake
Summary: Someone is using the citizens of Miami as lab rats. Pain. Insanity. Death. All for the sake of a sick experiment. And when Ryan becomes the killer's latest victim, the team has to work to save him before he's lost forever. Reviews immensely appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

_**SPECIAL SNEAK PREVIEW!**_

**Author's Note: **So... It's Wednesday. The poll for what you want for my next story is still up on my profile until sometime tomorrow. You can keep voting for one more day. However, the first place winner is abundantly clear :P. As my cyber-pal fergie put it, "mortal peril is always a crowd pleaser" lol. So, the first chapter for my next story is FINISHED and will be up tomorrow after the poll closes. Until then, I thought I'd give you a tiny taste of what's to come. This scene is from what is now my planned Chapter 7, but with me, there's no telling where the chapters will end until I actually sit down and write it out.

Well, without further rambling... here's a super-duper-ultra-mega-special sneak preview! ...Ok, it's not that special, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. ;) See you tomorrow...

* * *

Horatio stood next to the window, staring fixedly out at the trees swaying gently in the wind. He tried to draw some semblance of calm from them, fighting to keep the worry out of his face. He needed to make sure he maintained a perfectly steadfast facade. For his own sake.

For Ryan's sake.

Horatio glanced at his CSI quickly, then looked away before he noticed. Ryan was sitting on the hospital bed, his legs swung over one side, gripping the edges of the bed abnormally tight. His eyes were fixed on the ground below, barely even blinking, lost in his own thoughts.

Alexx silently sutured the gash on the back of Ryan's head, her eyes alight with worry. Her gaze darted back and forth between her work and Horatio. He wouldn't meet her eyes. But they didn't need to; they both knew they were thinking the same thing.

Ryan sighed. "It's gonna come back positive," he muttered.

Alexx swallowed. "We don't know what's going to happen, honey. Just wait for your blood tests to come back."

Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying not to move his head.

The three were silent for a few moments. Alexx snipped the thread deftly. "All done," she said, pushing away the small stand with her suture kit on it.

"Thanks," Ryan mumbled.

"I still want you to get an MRI," she began.

"Really, I'm fine, Alexx," he insisted.

"How long did you lose consciousness for?"

"A few seconds, if even," he said. "I'm fine."

Alexx shook her head. _Stubborn as ever._ "I'll go check on your tests, okay? I'll be right back."

As she left the room, Horatio distinctly heard Ryan mutter, "I'm _really _not going anywhere."

Horatio tore his gaze from the window and looked at Ryan. He looked tired. But he didn't look scared. A small twinge of pride squeezed Horatio's heart.

"How are you feeling?" Horatio asked, looking pointedly at the floor.

Ryan sighed again and looked up at the ceiling with bright hazel eyes. They looked even more green in this light than usual. "Okay... for now, I guess."

Horatio's gaze wandered to the small band-aid on Ryan's neck, concealing where the syringe had bitten into his skin.

Ryan had insisted on changing into his street clothes before coming to the hospital. They had needed his work clothes to process anyway, to see if they couldn't find any trace of his attacker, that doctor they were investigating. Ryan was sitting in a plain grey t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black sneakers. He looked a little pale, but other than that, there was no way to tell that anything at all was wrong with him.

"If the test comes back positive, we're gonna admit you to the hospital, okay?" Horatio said quietly.

He had no hope that it would come back negative, try as he might to hold onto it. That doctor had injected that crap straight into Ryan's neck... if what was in that syringe was what they all thought...

Ryan propped his elbows on his knees, his hands over his face. He nodded. "Fine, but I'm not changing clothes," he said quietly through his hands.

"Mr. Wolfe..." Horatio began.

"No, H," Ryan said flatly. "If I'm gonna die, it's not gonna be in a stupid hospital gown."

Horatio looked at him sharply. "Mr. Wolfe, you are not going to die."

For the first time since they'd gotten to the hospital, Ryan met Horatio's eyes, hazel-green into piercing blue. Horatio's heart twisted under Ryan's gaze.

Those eyes said it all.

_Don't lie to me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_Read this or you __will_ _be confused! _

This story is set somewhere within Season 9. **Warning: Minor spoiler ahead for "All Fall Down" (Season 8 Finale)**. This story operates on the assumption that all main team members survived the poisoning at the end of Season 8. It also operates on the assumption that Jesse Cardoza is no longer with the team and Eric Delko is back full-time in his place. An article online stated that Eddie Cibrian's contract has not been picked up for Season 9, meaning Jesse will be leaving us sometime this year. When he will go or how remains to be seen (I'm personally rooting for an epic fight to the death with the guy who murdered his wife). I will not address him at all in the story, so don't even worry about it. I much prefer to write about Eric anyway, Jesse was always sort of "blah" for me. Everything and everyone else is the same.

Also, this story contains fairly strong references to suicidal behavior. If you are easily upset by such things, you may want to steer clear of this story. There won't be anything horrifically graphic in here, at least not by my standards, I promise. However, I know from personal experience how even hearing about suicide can bring back awful memories or feelings for some people. Be aware that the characters that do commit suicide in this story do so under the influence of a severely mind-altering substance that I _completely and 100% __**made up**__**. **_While my plotlines have a basis in real neuroscience and psychology, I took _a lot _of liberties with their applications, so please don't begrudge me what I'm sure are multiple misconceptions.

That being said, I love you all! If you have any thoughts, questions or anything at all you'd like to say to me or talk to me about, please don't hesitate to PM me. And, as always, keep those reviews coming! They're the fuel for my creative fire. I hope you enjoy my sixth CSI: Miami fic, "Demons." Thanks, now go read!

* * *

**Chapter One**

"You did _what_?" Zulekha demanded, smacking her perfectly manicured hand on the table.

Jenn bit her lip bashfully. "I broke up with Mark," she muttered.

"Hell yeah, girl!" Zulekha cried gleefully, causing some of their fellow diners to look at her reproachfully. "I'm sorry, but it's about frickin' time. He was no good for you, honey."

Jenn made a face. "Yeah, well, I didn't know that 'til I caught him on the couch with my cousin."

Zulekha wrinkled her nose delicately, tumbles of ebony ringlets falling in front of her face. "That's just messed up."

"Tell me about it, Zu," Jenn muttered.

Zulekha immediately grabbed the waiter's attention by raising a cocoa-colored hand in the air. He walked over quickly. "Can I get you something else, ladies?" he asked.

"We need two mimosas," Zulekha said. "My girl just rejoined the land of the single."

The waiter grinned, then bustled off to get their drinks.

Jenn blushed a deep red under her countless freckles. "Did you _have _to tell him that?" she whispered, outraged.

Zulekha waved her off. "You owe me, he's totally coming back to give you his number."

Jenn shook her head and sighed. "Fine, but I'm gonna need more than one mimosa."

"Now you're talkin'!" Zulekha cheered.

The two friends sat on the patio of a little cafe on the strip, enjoying the warm morning sunlight as hordes of people passed by on the sidewalk. It was a beautiful Miami morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

As the two young women sipped their mimosas at their shaded table, Zulekha's sharp eyes, usually used to spot expensive jewelry and twinkles in the eyes of men, lit upon something very odd across the street. She frowned, squinting.

A man was staggering down the sidewalk, crashing into walls and people right and left. Raised voices could be heard following him, people yelling at him to watch where he was going and to lay off the booze this early in the morning. He was clutching his left arm tightly, as if he were afraid it would fall off any second. His head darted right and left, as if he were looking for something, his mouth moving at a rapid place, repeating the same phrase over and over.

Jenn turned to see what Zulekha was looking at. "What's that guy's damage?" she thought out loud.

The man suddenly darted into the street, in front of oncoming traffic. The women gasped. Other people at the cafe had started to take notice as well. Squealing brakes and blaring horns sounded over the usual rumble of morning activity as cars skidded to avoid hitting the man in the street.

He stumbled toward the cafe, barely able to hold himself up.

"Are you okay?" Jenn called to him.

He looked up at her, as if surprised to see her there. His eyes seemed out of focus, his mouth hanging open.

"I... I have to... kill them," he choked, his voice thick like he was about to throw up.

Jenn backed away from the short wall between her and the sidewalk. "Kill them?" she echoed hollowly, becoming nervous.

"They won't stop, they never stop," he stammered. "Always there, always listening..."

A young police officer stepped toward the man cautiously. He'd been sitting in his patrol car on the corner. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "Can I help you?"

The man looked at the officer. His eyes widened in fear. Then he took off sprinting down the street.

-|x|-

"Please, sir, we can talk about this," implored Officer Eckhart. "Just come away from the ledge."

The young policeman had chased this guy for five blocks from that cafe. He'd ducked into an alley and started climbing a fire escape to get up to the roof of a residential building, and now he was standing at the edge, looking pretty ready to jump.

This was _not _how Eckhart had been planning to start his morning.

"Sir, please," he said, inching closer with his hands up in front of him. "Don't do this."

The man gazed at him as if he were completely alien. He still clutched his left arm. Tears poured down his grime-streaked face. His eyes were wild and abnormally round. Eckhart was no doctor, but he knew something was horribly wrong with him.

"You don't understand!" the man screamed. "I have to get away from them! It's the only way!"

"Killing yourself is not the answer!" Eckhart cried.

The man looked over the edge at the ground way down below.

"Don't..." Eckhart cautioned, taking another step forward.

The man seemed to relax. And then he simply stepped over the side.

"NO!" Eckhart screamed, rooted to the spot. He stood there in shock for a few seconds, hearing the nauseating thud of the man hitting the ground. He finally tore his feet from the ground and stumbled to the edge, looking over. The sight of the man's contorted body on the concrete below was sickening.

"Oh, God!" he cried, putting a hand to his head in shock. He stood there for he didn't know how long. The he saw his partner pull up in their squad car below. He watched his partner get out of the car and walk slowly to the body on the sidewalk, then look up at the roof.

"You okay, Eckhart?" he called.

He didn't know how to answer, he just stood at the edge, looking over and breathing hard.

"Holy shit," he whispered to himself. "What the hell just happened?"

-|x|-

"What do we have here, Frank?" Horatio asked, stepping up to his friend, idly twirling his sunglasses in his hands.

Tripp sighed, reading off his pad of paper. "Our jumper's name is Gabriel Marcelino; his wallet was in his back pocket. Officer Troy Eckhart over there witnessed the whole thing," he reported, indicating the young patrolman standing off to the side, watching the body with a blank look on his face. "Poor kid. Two weeks out of the Academy. Probably never even seen a dead body before. He said he was on the roof with the guy when he jumped."

"Thank you, Frank, I'll take it from here," Horatio said, walking over toward the young officer.

Eckhart didn't even seem to notice Horatio approach, his deadened blue-green eyes staring fixedly at the crumpled corpse a few feet away.

Horatio stood next to him. "You okay, son?" he asked quietly.

Eckhart glanced at Horatio, then quickly looked at the ground. "Never seen anyone die before, Lieutenant," he answered softly.

Horatio nodded understandingly. "It's not something you'll ever get used to, Troy," he said gently.

Eckhart sighed. "Good."

Horatio smiled kindly. Good kid. Good attitude. He might just make it okay in this life.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Horatio asked.

"I was sitting with my partner on the corner of Sunrise and Rio," Eckhart began heavily. "Like we do every morning. This guy comes out of nowhere, staggering, muttering nonsense, running into traffic... Just all over the place."

"Okay, and you thought what?"

"Drunk, maybe drugs. I stepped out to confront him and my partner stayed by the car ready to cover me. I walked up to him, asked him if he needed help. He looked at me and then he just took off down the sidewalk."

"And you pursued him on foot?"

"Yes, sir, I ran after him and my partner followed us in the car. He ducked into a couple of alleys and one-ways, so we lost my partner, but I kept on him. And then he started climbing the fire escape up there," he continued, pointing toward the rusty stairs snaking up the side of the building. "By the time I got up there after him, he was on the edge."

Eckhart took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And then he jumped."

Horatio frowned. "Just like that?"

"Just like that, sir. He was gone."

"He didn't talk to you, didn't confess anything to you? Didn't give you any sort of message for anyone?"

"Not really, sir. He kept yelling something about getting away from 'them' and... He just... jumped."

"That's peculiar."

"How so, sir?"

"Typical suicides are planned out. They know what they're going to do, where, and what they want to tell their loved ones, if they have any. Usually that message is in the form of a note or a verbal communication with whoever would be the last to see them alive."

"That's just it, sir. I don't think this _was_ a typical suicide."

"What makes you say that, Troy?"

"Remember when I said I thought he was drunk?" he remarked thoughtfully. "He didn't smell like it. You know drunks, sir, they reek. And he's too well put together to be a common junkie. I can't explain it... but it was almost like he was crazy or something."

"Crazy?"

"Yes, sir. There was something distinctly not right with him. He was out of his _mind_."

"Out of his mind," Horatio remarked quietly, slipping on his sunglasses and gazing up toward the roof of the building. "And now... Out of his misery."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Horatio one-liner FTW! :P Well, I hope you liked the start of this (literally) madness. I'll try to update quickly as usual, but I'm a busy girl this summer, lots of work to do, lots of beaches to hit and tan guys to gawk at ;). I will promise at LEAST one update a week. (Kinda like a new episode every week! haha). However, I am anticipating being able to update more often than that. I have this story planned for the most part, but who knows... my muse is a very fickle, strange little person. Sorry if this first chapter was kinda slow... I know I've written better. But it'll pick up soon, I promise! Please review, I do adore seeing those cute little alerts in my otherwise empty inbox (sad face). Love you all!

P.S. Nothing's new in the second reload of this chapter, lol. I noticed I spelled "brakes" wrong and the OCD side of me went into a frenzy until I fixed it :P. Thanks for reading! More soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

As Natalia walked into the morgue, she saw Tom was there waiting for her, that morning's victim laid out on the table. Tom was reading through a thick file, his brows knitted in concentration. He looked up when she approached.

She smiled. "Hey, Tom."

"Good morning, Natalia," he answered cheerily, putting down the file.

"You find out anything about our jumper, Mr. Marcelino?" she asked.

Tom had a mischievous look in his eye. "Nothing."

She raised her eyebrows at him quizzically. "Nothing?"

"Besides having fallen from a nine-story building, there's not a thing wrong with him," Tom said. "No track marks. No tumors. Perfectly healthy internal organs. I've read his entire medical record and he might just be the healthiest man I've ever seen. Aside from being dead, of course."

"The officer that witnessed the suicide said Mr. Marcelino was acting erratic," Natalia said, frowning. "As if he were under the influence of a mind-altering drug."

"If he was, it wasn't one that left any noticeable damage to his system," Tom said.

"What about mental illness?" she suggested.

"There's nothing in his medical records about being treated for any kind of psychiatric disorder," Tom told her, handing her the file. "If he had one, his doctors didn't know about it."

"Well, certain conditions can come out pretty much any time, right?" she said, skimming through the file. "Can't schizophrenics have their first psychotic break into their thirties and forties?"

"Yes, but somehow I don't think that's what happened here," Tom said thoughtfully. "If this was a break, it was an atypically violent one."

"Horatio's talking to his wife, seeing if there was anything that happened recently that may have sent him over the edge."

"And I have a present for you," Tom said, holding out three sample tubes full of dark red blood.

Natalia took them. "And it's not even my birthday. You shouldn't have."

He grinned.

"Do you mind if I take these with me?" she asked, holding up the file.

"It's all yours," he said.

"Great. Thanks for the blood samples, I'll run them for any foreign chemicals or trace."

-|x|-

Horatio sat with Gabriel Marcelino's widow, Helena, holding onto her hand as she tried to stifle her tears in the handkerchief he'd given her.

"This doesn't make any sense," she choked wetly. "He's never been depressed or angry or _anything_."

"Mrs. Marcelino, I know this is very difficult," Horatio said quietly. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Gabriel is my _life_," she pressed. "How am I supposed to make it without him? What do I tell my _kids_?"

"I don't know," Horatio said quietly, his heart suddenly aching for Marisol. "It's going to be hard…"

"Why didn't I realize something was wrong with him?" she cried. "Why didn't the doctors know?"

"Had he seen a doctor recently?"

"Yes," she said, wiping her nose. "He's been sick for a few days. He went to the clinic yesterday. The doctors told him they were worried about meningitis, but he would have to go to a real hospital to get the test."

"Meningitis could explain his behavior," Horatio remarked. "Did Gabriel get the test?"

She shook her head remorsefully. "I wanted to take him yesterday, but he wouldn't let me because I was going to be late for work. He promised to go himself."

"But he never did," Horatio finished for her.

She shook her head again, fresh sobs erupting from her throat. "He lost his job a few months ago. We lost our health insurance. I've been working in a café to make ends meet, but I don't get benefits… He probably thought we couldn't afford expensive tests…"

Horatio sat next to her silently, patting her hand supportively.

"Things were hard, but I thought we were happy," she sobbed. "And then Gabriel never came home last night… I called the police, but the officer I talked to said they couldn't help me unless he'd been gone for more than two days…"

Horatio's temper flared, but he quickly shoved it aside. He'd be having a word with that officer later.

"What am I going to do now?" she wailed, panic edging into her voice. "My husband had a life insurance policy, but the insurance company said they don't cover suicides! How am I supposed to take care of my children?"

She hiccupped wetly into the handkerchief, trying desperately to control herself.

She sighed. "You must think I'm horrible," she mumbled darkly. "Worrying about money after something like this…"

"I don't think you're horrible, Mrs. Marcelino," he assured her. "I think you're just worried about your family."

"I know you must hear this from every family that comes through here, but my husband would never do this," she insisted. "He would never kill himself. His older brother committed suicide when Gabriel was in high school. He knew what it would do to his family and he would never put us through it. He _just wouldn't_."

"I know it doesn't feel like it now, Mrs. Marcelino," Horatio said gently. "But you and your family are going to get through this. You'll be all right."

She tried to smile at him but it was shaky at best. "We can't even afford to live anymore," she said. "Everything just costs too much these days."

"Well, Mrs. Marcelino," Horatio told her. "I promise… I'm going to find out what happened to your husband. Because, you know what? Justice… is still free."

* * *

**Author's Note: **SECOND HORATIO ONE-LINER FTW! haha sorry, I'm loving this a little too much :D. Damn it, CBS, just hire me already! I'll practically work for free! ...and maybe the occasional date with Jonathan Togo. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: ***sigh* Dragged myself out of mourning long enough to polish off another chapter. Hope you like. I'm gonna go back to bed and cry now, with only copious amounts of chocolate to keep me company.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Calleigh was checking in a box at the evidence locker when she heard her name called. She turned to see Tom hurrying toward her.

"Hey, Tom," she said cheerily. "What are you doing over here?"

His eyes were bright with excitement. "You're helping Natalia with the Marcelino case, right?"

"Yeah," she said. "You could've just called me, I would've come to you."

"I couldn't wait," he said, practically bouncing.

She grinned. "Okay, walk with me."

They set off across the lobby, stopping in the room where Natalia was processing the blood evidence from the jumper case. She looked up when they came in, her face surprised when she saw who was with Calleigh.

"So," Tom said, getting straight down to business. "I'm here because I think I may have found a big piece of our little puzzle. In Gabriel Marcelino's legs."

Calleigh and Natalia glanced at each other, amused.

"His legs?" Calleigh asked. "Didn't the blow to the head when he hit the concrete kill him?"

"That's what usually happens, yes," Tom explained. "_Usually_. But not this guy. He landed feet-first. When his feet landed on the pavement, his femurs snapped clean through, and, in the case of his left leg, skewered his femoral artery."

Natalia winced. "Ouch."

"But," Tom continued, talking faster as he got to the interesting part. "My findings around the break and the artery indicated that blood was _not _flowing at the time of impact."

Calleigh frowned. "How is that possible?"

"He was dead before he hit the ground."

"So wait a minute," Natalia piped up. "You're telling us that Gabriel Marcelino died somewhere between the roof and the ground?"

"Indeed."

"Do you know what killed him?" she pressed.

He tossed a small file on the table. "One nasty myocardial infarction. When I looked closer, I saw at least half of his heart muscle was shredded. Judging by the extent of the damage, he was probably having it for almost an hour before he jumped. His heart stopped mid-drop."

"A heart attack," Calleigh remarked quietly, flipping through the file. "Did he have a heart condition?"

Tom shook his head. "His last physical done by his doctor showed some of the strongest vitals I've ever seen. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Cholesterol level. All within a very healthy range."

"Ironically, at least that's good for Mr. Marcelino's widow," Calleigh pointed out sadly. "Horatio said she was having trouble with her husband's life insurance carrier because they don't cover deaths by suicide. At least now we can give her a definitive cause of death that they'll have to cover."

"So the question becomes what gives a healthy man a heart attack?" Natalia asked.

Tom pointed at her, grinning. "Exactly."

-|x|-

Ryan, Eric and Walter ducked under the yellow tape and walked toward the house together. They were in a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. The lawn was richly green and well groomed. Bright pink flowers lined the walkway up to the front door. The house was quaint and well tended. They all had a hard time believing something horrible happened here.

They stepped into the air-conditioned dimness of the house, and immediately they could discern the familiar metallic smell of blood wafting down the hallway from the kitchen. A young detective strode forward to brief them.

"Hey, guys," she said quietly, sounding solemn.

"Detective Quinn, right?" Ryan asked.

She made a face at him. "Ugh, 'Detective Quinn' is my father. You can call me Mallory."

She cleared her throat and proceeded to read from her little notebook, leading the way back to the kitchen. "Our victim's name is Kelly Pickett, 38 years old, stay-at-home mom. 911 received a call from her seven-year-old son, Sammy. First responders found Mrs. Pickett in the kitchen with multiple stab wounds all over. She was pronounced dead on arrival."

The three CSIs surveyed the red-soaked corpse of the woman, riddled with gory stab wounds. She was seated on the floor, wedged in the corner created by two countertop units. Her head was flopped forward, one leg tucked in awkwardly. Her hands rested on her knees, palms up. It was a very odd position for someone who had been violently attacked.

Walter put down his kit and started photographing the scene. Eric looked at Mallory.

"Did the son see who did it?" he asked her.

"He won't talk to anybody," she said sadly. "He's in the backyard."

"I'll go talk to him," Ryan said, setting off for the back door.

"The husband should be here any minute, we called him out of work," Mallory said.

"Let me know when he gets here?" Eric asked.

"You bet," she said, leaving them to their work as she walked back toward the front door.

Eric pulled on a pair of gloves and squatted down to look at the body. Since the coroner wasn't there yet, they weren't allowed to touch her.

Right on the ground next to her was a bloody knife. A big one. Eric picked it up gingerly and held it up for Walter to see.

"Probably our murder weapon," he remarked, dropping it carefully into a fresh evidence envelope, hilt-first.

"I wonder why the killer left it behind," Walter said.

Eric returned his attention back to the body, frowning. Something wasn't sitting quite right with him. Something was definitely weird about this whole thing.

He surveyed the woman's corpse in front of him, wracking his mind trying to figure out why this scene was bothering him so much.

The victim was soaked in her own blood. Deep, ugly gashes striped her forearms up and down. Eric could also see at least four deep stab wounds in her belly as well. She would have bled out in a matter of moments.

That's when it hit him. There was a lot of blood. But not in the right place…

He stood up, looking around the kitchen. His sharp eyes scanned every surface, every appliance and inch of flooring.

It was immaculate.

"I got a question for you, Walter," Eric said thoughtfully. "If someone was stabbing you, what would you do?"

Walter looked at him, utterly perplexed. "Get my gun and shoot 'em. Why?"

"Okay, if you didn't have a gun, what would you do?"

"I don't know," Walter said. "Run like hell, I guess. Where you going with this?"

"There's no blood anywhere else in this kitchen," Eric explained. "All of it's on her, contained to this one corner of the room. There's no spatter, there's no gravitational drops, no indication at all that she tried to get away from the killer."

Walter frowned. "Maybe he surprised her, killed before she knew what was going on?"

Eric squatted back down again, leaning in closer to the victim, staring at her bare arms. "These stab wounds on her arms are weird," he remarked. "The knife we got has a clean edge, but these wounds are way too messy, as if the knife was serrated or…someone went digging."

"Digging?"

"Yeah, like they stabbed her, then twisted the knife around a few times."

Walter cringed. "That's sadistic."

"And judging by all the blood, I'd say she was alive and bleeding for at least a few minutes before she actually died," Eric finished.

They stood quietly for a moment.

"That's weird," Walter said.

"…Yeah."

-|x|-

Ryan set his kit down outside the sliding glass door that led out to the backyard. A patrol officer standing guard nearby nodded to him in acknowledgement. Ryan nodded back, then slowly began walking toward the swing-set in the middle of the yard, his hands tucked into his pockets.

A little boy was sitting on one of the two swings, rocking himself slowly back and forth, his feet barely coming off the ground. He stared at the ground as he gripped the ropes of the swing, his face blank.

Ryan carefully made his way toward the kid, making sure not to move too fast. He gingerly sat down on the vacant swing next to the boy, who didn't move. Ryan leaned forward with his hands clasped, resting his elbows on his legs. Without thinking about it, he started matching the boy's gentle rhythm of swinging slightly back and forth, back and forth, barely going more than an inch or two either way.

They sat there for a few moments, a cool breeze playing across their faces, ruffling Sammy's hair.

"Sammy, my name's Ryan Wolfe," he said gently. "I'm a police officer."

The boy made no sign of even hearing him.

Ryan continued, keeping his voice as quiet and soothing as possible, knowing the boy must have been through one hell of a trauma. "I'm trying to figure out what happened… to your mom? The detective inside said you saw what happened but you wouldn't talk to anybody."

The boy sighed heavily, sounding far older than his years.

"Do you think maybe… you could talk to me?" he prodded carefully. One false move and this kid would shut him out even more than he already was.

Ryan waited there, sitting on the swing next to that little boy, hoping he would trust him.

Sammy looked up at Ryan with haunted blue eyes, as if sizing him up.

"Sammy, do you know who hurt your mom?" Ryan asked quietly.

The boy swallowed. "Mommy hurt herself," he whispered.

Ryan leaned in closer to him so as not to miss a single word. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Sammy sighed again, dropping his gaze back to the ground. He scuffed at a rock half-heartedly. "Mommy was sick," he said. "She stayed in bed today. Daddy told me to behave and take care of Mommy when he went to work."

He scuffed at the rock again. "I heard her crying. She was crying for a really long time, and she started crying louder. I tried to make her feel better, but she didn't even see I was there, so I went back downstairs."

Sammy sniffled wetly, starting to cry. Ryan got off the swing to kneel in front of him, offering him whatever support he could.

"She came downstairs," the boy continued through his tears. "She was yelling at someone. She went to the kitchen. She yelled louder. She picked up a knife… and…and..."

The boy couldn't finish. He launched himself off the swing, throwing his arms around Ryan's neck. Ryan caught him, holding the shaking boy close as he cried. Ryan stroked Sammy's hair and patted his back, trying to calm him down.

Ryan's heart was full of sorrow for this poor kid, who'd seen more horror than most people saw in a lifetime. As he tried to lend any strength he had to this boy, his mind raced with cold realization of what Sammy had told him.

_Mommy hurt herself._

-|x|-

"Mr. Pickett, has your wife told you about anything strange lately?" Eric asked. "Phone calls, people hanging up, maybe someone following her?"

Mr. Pickett was shaking violently, his eyes darting back and forth. He had one hand on his forehead. Tears were spilling over from his eyes, his face one of utter shock. "No, nothing like that," he whispered. "Who would do this to Kelly?"

"I don't know, Mr. Pickett," Eric said. "But we're gonna find out, all right?"

The other man nodded vaguely, still shaking, looking as if he had no idea what was going on.

Eric's cell phone suddenly started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. He frowned when he saw it was Ryan. What, was he too lazy to just come inside?

Eric answered. "Yeah, Wolfe?"

"Eric, it's a 10-56."

Eric froze, sure he'd heard him wrong. "You serious?"

"That's what the kid said."

Eric sighed. As much as he didn't like it, it explained a whole lot more than it didn't. "Okay, thanks."

He hung up, his heart heavy. His job just got a whole lot worse.

"Mr. Pickett," he began delicately. "Has Kelly ever been diagnosed with depression?"

He looked at Eric as if he'd just asked him if his wife was from Mars. "Of course not, why?"

"She hadn't been acting strangely lately?" Eric pressed. "Emotional, maybe? Violent mood swings?"

Mr. Pickett looked at him closely. "Are you trying to tell me Kelly did this to herself?" he whispered.

Eric hesitated, then nodded. "Your son told my colleague she stabbed herself."

If possible, he looked even more shocked than before. "What? No, that's not possible... Kelly would never..."

"Would Sammy lie about something like that?"

Mr. Pickett started to hyperventilate. "No, he's a good kid! Kelly's been sick for a couple weeks, but... The doctors... they thought it was mono! She got her blood tested a few days ago... The results were supposed to come back today..."

He looked at Eric pleadingly. "She can't have done this. She would never hurt herself or Sammy. She just wouldn't!"

Eric swallowed. "We're gonna take her for an autopsy, see if we can't find out how this happened, okay?"

Mr. Pickett nodded, tears falling silently from his wide eyes.

Ryan approached them, standing at Eric's elbow. "Mr. Pickett?" he asked. "Sammy's out back, he's asking for you."

Mr. Pickett looked from Ryan to Eric. "Let me know if you find out anything about Kelly?"

Eric nodded. "Absolutely."

Mr. Pickett gulped, then slowly trudged toward the back of the house to face his son.

Ryan sighed. "This sucks," he muttered.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Eric mumbled in reply. "So the boy said his mom killed herself?"

"That's what he told me. Poor kid saw the whole thing."

Eric shook his head. "I don't understand how anyone could do something like that in front of their kid."

Ryan shrugged. "Depression makes people act in strange ways. If it's bad enough, they become a whole new person."

"Husband says she was never diagnosed with anything, though," Eric pointed out. "Said she was happy."

"So either he just didn't notice, or something happened to set her off like this."

"It's weird, it almost sounds like someone just flipped a switch in her head," Eric remarked.

They both thought for a moment.

"Hey, didn't the others have a strange suicide this morning, too?" Ryan said suddenly.

Eric frowned. "Yeah, actually. Calleigh said something about that... A guy jumped off a building, I think."

Ryan's face was darkly etched with thought.

"What? You don't think they're connected, do you?" Eric said.

Ryan looked at him, an odd look on his face.

"... I don't know yet."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I only changed one thing in the reload of this chapter. The police code I had, 11-45, was supposed to mean "suicide," but I was wrong ;P It happens! I don't know if police codes change from to state to state or not, but I figured I'd change it anyway. The code is now 10-56, which some more reliable-looking websites than the one I used before listed as the correct code for "suicide." The whole point of using the code is that Ryan is still with Sammy when he calls Eric, and he wouldn't say the words "suicide" or "killed herself" in front of the kid. Thanks to Mel for finding that! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four**

"Okay. Thanks, Tom," Calleigh said, hanging up the phone.

"Anything new?" Natalia asked.

Calleigh shook her head. "He said he'll keep looking for any evidence of mind-altering substances, but he said our best bet of finding one is the blood samples he gave you."

"Yeah, I've been running them through the system, but without knowing what we're looking for, it's taking a while," Natalia said.

"Well, what are our options?" Calleigh thought out loud. "Cocaine, heroin, crystal meth, PCP, LSD... The list goes on."

"Yeah, and those are just the common drugs that could have done it," Natalia said. "That still leaves environmental factors and any sort of neurological or psychiatric illness."

Calleigh sighed. "That's a long list."

"And the worst part is, that's just assuming this is a substance or disease we've seen before," Natalia pointed out.

Calleigh nodded. "There could be a brand new drug on the streets."

-|x|-

Walter carefully slid the knife out of the evidence envelope and placed it in the fuming chamber. The white smoke drifted lazily upward to stick to any fingerprints. Walter watched them slowly materialize, not really thinking.

When it was done, he took the knife out of the box and placed it on the table, underneath the camera. He photographed all the prints several times, taking care to capture every angle, every print. There were five distinct prints on the hilt of the knife.

Ryan walked in. "Is that the knife from the Kelly Pickett case?"

Walter nodded. "Yeah, just finished printing it. I was just about to compare them to our victim."

Ryan looked at the knife, arms folded in front of him. "These prints are in a distinct pattern," he noticed. "The four fingers are all close in a line going down the length of the handle, with the thumb on top."

He held up his own fist in that shape, demonstrating.

Walter nodded. "In a stabbing motion."

"Uh-huh." Ryan put his hand down.

"Well, she would have picked it up that way to defend herself, too," Walter said quickly, almost pleadingly. "Not just to stab herself."

Ryan's eyes were sad. "You weren't there, Walter. No way was that kid lying to me when he said his mom killed herself."

Neither said anything for a moment, then Ryan sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Walter asked him.

Ryan shook his head. "That... should _not _have been the last memory that kid has of his mom," he said quietly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know this one was short, sorry :P. The last one was so long, it threw off the balance a little. The next one will be much longer, I promise! Hope you're enjoying the story so far! If you all are good and send me lots of reviews I may be tempted to post the next chapter tonight instead of tomorrow night... ;P


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Aha! So that's how I get more people to review :P. BRIBERY! haha Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Most of you have been reviewing all along anyway, so thanks for sticking with me. For all you who didn't review (naughty! :P) you can direct your thanks for this newest chapter to me. fergie, LoveCSI93, NickTonyK, ferret assassin nin, MelxxWhoLuvsYa, Love4eternity1016 and Hobby-Writing. Thanks for the love! And yes, I am feeling much better about the USA World Cup heartbreaker. Chocolate truly is an amazing substance, lol. And as Hobby-Writing very wisely pointed out, "writing is very good therapy." ;) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Horatio led Mrs. Marcelino to a bench down in MDPD. They sat down on it side by side, in a quiet corner away from the main activity of the room.

"Mrs. Marcelino, thank you for coming back in," he said quietly.

"You said you'd learned something new about Gabriel?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," he said, producing a red file folder and handing it to her. "That is a copy of the medical examiner's report."

Helena swallowed and slowly opened the file with shaking fingers.

"Our M.E. found the cause of Gabriel's death to be a heart attack," he explained to her.

She looked at him, confused. "Not suicide?"

"No," Horatio said gently. "Our doctor examined his body and figured out that the fall didn't kill him."

She gazed down at the papers, tears pooling in her eyes. "What does this mean?" she whispered.

"Well, Mrs. Marcelino," he said. "It means that we can't be sure that the heart attack didn't kill him before he fell off the roof. For all we know, he died before then, and the fall was simply an accident."

She nodded in understanding, a tear dropping from her eye to land with a soft plink on the file.

"So, I want you to take these documents to your husband's life insurance carrier," Horatio said. "And if they still won't honor Gabriel's policy, I want you to come find me, and I'll sort it out with them. Okay?"

Helena looked at him, her mouth open in speechlessness. "I… But… How can I ever thank you?" she stammered.

Horatio smiled kindly at her. "You don't have to, ma'am."

Horatio looked up across the room and saw Calleigh. She was looking around, searching for someone. When she met Horatio's eyes she quickly started walking toward him.

"Excuse me for one moment," he said, leaving Helena's side. He walked toward Calleigh a few steps, where they would be out of earshot.

"Did we get anything off Mr. Marcelino's blood?" he asked when she joined him.

"Not yet," she said, crestfallen. "Natalia tested for all known toxins, drugs, chemicals, _anything _that could potentially explain his behavior, but nothing came up. She said she'd keep trying, though."

"So either we're looking for something psychological or a brand new substance that hasn't been identified by the government yet," Horatio remarked.

"Well, our victim had no medical history of depression, psychosis, anything like that," Calleigh said. "So I started leaning toward the unidentified substance theory."

"Go on."

"And then Tom sent over this."

She handed him a thin folder. He opened it, revealing two photographs, both of the victim's shoulder.

A tiny, red dot was barely discernible on the man's skin, over the thick muscle between the shoulder and the bicep.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's an almost healed puncture wound," Calleigh explained. "Tom didn't notice it at first because it's at least three days old. He never saw it until he went back over the body with a magnifying glass."

"A puncture wound," he said, squinting to see the small mark better. "Like from a syringe?"

Calleigh nodded. "That's what Tom thought. Horatio, we might be looking at our entrance point for whatever killed Mr. Marcelino."

"Indeed," he said thoughtfully. "It's a strange place for it, though… People who inject things into their own blood usually use the inside of their elbow."

"Because the veins are easier to see and it's easier to aim the needle," Calleigh added. She raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully. "Unless they're not doing the injecting themselves…"

"Doctors use the shoulder for their patients' injections," Horatio finished.

Calleigh nodded, her eyes alight with excitement of having finally caught a lead.

Horatio walked back over to Mrs. Marcelino, Calleigh on his heels. He sat back down beside her.

"Mrs. Marcelino," Horatio said. "Has Gabriel had any shots recently?"

She frowned at him. "Shots? Yes, actually, he went to the clinic four days ago to get a tetanus shot. He cut himself on a rusty nail in the garage, we wanted to make sure it was clean."

"He went to the clinic four days ago…," Horatio echoed. "And when did he start feeling sick?"

She looked even more confused, looking from Horatio to Calleigh. "The next morning…"

"Okay," he said. "Where is this clinic?"

-|x|-

"Look, we see almost a hundred patients every single day," Maya said huffily, expertly weaving her way through patients, chairs and piles of supplies. She didn't have _time _for this! "I run this clinic on my own with two other full-time nurses. A couple student nurses and doctors come and go as volunteers throughout the week. This place is free and a lot of people depend on us, okay?"

"I understand that, ma'am, and we'll get out of your way as soon as we can," Horatio assured her. Calleigh stayed close beside him, scanning the faces of all the patients packed into the little clinic. She watched a young mother try to soothe her crying baby as she waited in line to be seen.

"If you don't mind my asking," Calleigh said quietly. "If the clinic is free, how can you afford to stay open?"

The nurse put her hands on her hips impatiently. "We get funded by a few private philanthropy groups, as well as donations of money and equipment from the other hospitals in the area," Maya explained. "Doctors volunteer here for a few hours every week; most hospitals make it a requirement for their employees, so we don't have to pay them any salary."

Horatio handed her a photograph of Gabriel Marcelino. "Do you recognize this man?"

Maya looked at him reproachfully; she needed to get back to _work_! Patients were waiting! Nevertheless, she looked at the photo, trying to remember. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I don't recognize him offhand," she said, handing the photo back to Horatio. "But as I said, we get a lot of people in here. He could have been in here two minutes ago and I wouldn't recognize him."

"His wife said he was here four days ago to get a tetanus shot," Horatio said. "Do you keep records of your patients?"

The look of pure indignation and resentment she gave him could have peeled paint. "Of course we do, what the hell kind of operation do you think this is?" she demanded acidly. "Just because we're not in the ritzy part of town, you think we're a second-class care provider?"

Horatio bit back a grin. He liked this lady. Very spicy.

"We didn't mean to insinuate anything, ma'am," Calleigh quickly said. She liked Maya, too. "Could we please take a look at those files?"

"Patients' files are confidential," Maya began.

Calleigh quickly handed her a blue piece of paper. "Oh, we have a warrant. And patient confidentiality becomes void after death. _And _we got signed permission from his spouse to get the records."

Maya pursed her lips. _Cops_. "We keep everything from the past six months in file cabinets in the back. You can make copies of this man's files and _only this man's files_. Got me?"

"We very much appreciate your help, ma'am," Horatio said courteously.

"Candace!" Maya barked loudly over the din.

A flustered young woman with her brown hair in a messy bun came scurrying over, looking frazzled.

"Candace will take you back there," Maya said, very business-like. "I really have to get back to my patients."

"Thank you very much for your help," Horatio said.

Maya shot him one last annoyed look then hustled off to her duties.

Candace led Horatio and Calleigh past the main waiting room, down a hallway lined with exam rooms and storage closets.

"Do you work here full time?" Calleigh asked as they walked.

"No, I come in twice a week," Candace said. "I'm usually over at Dade U medical center."

"Is it always this busy?" Calleigh inquired.

"No," Candace said simply. She grinned at them wickedly. "It's usually much busier. I'm surprised Maya even took the time to talk to you, she must like you or something."

Calleigh chuckled. "She has a funny way of showing it if she does."

Candace nodded. "She scares the crap out of most people," she told them. "But she's the best nurse there is, and she loves her patients."

She stopped in front of door labeled "Do Not Enter" and pushed it open.

Inside, the walls were lined with rusty and dented filing cabinets. The whole room smelled like musty paper and old metal.

"When was your guy seen here?" Candace asked them.

"Four days ago," Calleigh replied. "His name was Gabriel Marcelino, M-A-R-C-E-L-I-N-O."

Candace found the drawer she was looking for and started flipping through countless file folders, her tongue sticking out between her teeth. She finally found the one she was looking for. She wrestled it out of the jam-packed drawer.

"You looking for anything in particular?"

"If we could get a whole copy of that file, we'd appreciate it," Horatio said.

"Sure. There's a copier in the staff room, I'll make you one." Candace idly opened the file and led them back out of the room, reading. "Says here Dr. Annemarie Franci saw your guy for a laceration to his upper leg. She patched him up and gave him a tetanus booster."

"We're gonna need to speak with Dr. Franci," Horatio said.

Candace looked at them, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Do you know where we can find her?" Horatio asked.

Now Candace looked really worried. "She works at Dade U with me; she's a neurologist there. She comes here every couple of days to volunteer. She should be coming in today, actually, if you want to come back around 2 p.m."

Horatio nodded. "We'll do that."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry again if this is moving slowly for some people. I try to write my stories like actual episodes, so the action doesn't really start til the middle. But... in chapter six... ooo it's getting good :P Stay tuned!**  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **I was gonna hold on to this chapter until tomorrow night... you know, pace myself. But I can't, I'm too excited! :P Hope you like it as much as I do!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, shook himself, then opened them again, blinking rapidly. All these tiny little letters in Kelly Pickett's medical records were starting to blur together as he read them in an empty layout room. Papers were spread neatly in front of him, covering almost the entire table.

Calleigh walked by the room, then doubled back and came in. "Hey, Ryan," she said. "How's your case going?"

He didn't look up when she came in, afraid he would lose his place. He sighed. "Not too great. I'm looking for any possible medical reason in Kelly Pickett's entire history why she might suddenly go nuts and kill herself. I got nothing so far."

"Right, Eric told me you guys got a suicide, too," she remarked. "When it rains it pours, I guess."

"Uh-huh..." he answered vaguely, his brow knit with concentration.

She frowned. She knew that tone of voice from him. "Something bothering you?"

He gave her a tiny shrug. "It's just weird... Two healthy, fairly young people with no history of psychiatric or drug problems both violently commit suicide in the same morning?"

"Yeah...," she said. "Well, Horatio's going back to our victim's clinic later to talk to the last doctor to see him. Maybe she noticed something about him that could give us a hint."

"Natalia have any luck isolating anything from his blood?" he asked.

"She's amazing," Calleigh said fervently. "She did manage to actually detect a foreign substance. It's biological, so that's why it took us so long to find it; it was hiding in his naturally occurring proteins. We have no idea what it is yet, though, or what it does. She's working on it."

"Maybe I'll send her a sample of Kelly Pickett's blood for comparison...," Ryan said thoughtfully.

Calleigh frowned. "You really think there's a connection between our two cases? It's not just a coincidence?"

"Cal, how often do we ever have a true coincidence in this job?" he joked dryly.

She smiled. They both fell silent, Ryan still diligently reading. Calleigh glanced down at the papers on the table in front of her. She skimmed it curiously.

Suddenly she frowned, leaning down closer to read the name on the paper. She looked up at Ryan.

"Ryan...," she said quietly.

He looked at her, saw the look of bewilderment on her face. "What's up?"

"Dr. Annemarie Franci," she said.

"Who?"

She handed him the paper she'd read. "Dr. Annemarie Franci drew Kelly Pickett's blood three days ago for mono testing. She was the last doctor to see Kelly before she died."

Her green eyes glittered. "Ryan, that's the same doctor that last saw Gabriel Marcelino."

Ryan immediately took out his cell phone. "You still think it could be a coincidence?"

"Hell no," she said flatly.

Ryan held the phone up to his ear. "Yeah, H, it's Ryan. You're going back to the clinic to talk to the victim's doctor, right? Yeah, I'm coming with you."

-|x|-

Ryan sat in the front seat of the Hummer, Horatio driving them to the clinic. Ryan's heart pumped his veins full of adrenaline, the excitement of the chase taking hold of him. He loved it when a case started coming together.

"So Kelly Pickett and Gabriel Marcelino both saw the same doctor within a day of each other," Ryan said.

"He went for a tetanus shot and she went to get bloodwork done to test for mono," Horatio added.

"It would've been fairly easy for the good doctor to dose them with something without their knowledge," Ryan pointed out. "I mean, if you're not a doctor, how do you really know what they're supposed to do? You're supposed to be able to trust doctors."

"And the doctor in question is a neurologist at Dade U," Horatio finished. "I looked at her profile online, and apparently she researches psychogenic illnesses, mainly schizophrenia."

"Maybe she's experimenting," Ryan said darkly.

"And the citizens of Miami are her lab rats."

Neither said anything for a moment.

"That's twisted," Ryan said.

-|x|-

Maya looked up when Horatio and Ryan approached her, putting her hands on her hips. "Oh no, not you again," she said sourly.

Horatio smirked. "Is Dr. Franci here?"

Maya waved an impatient hand toward the back hallway. "She was supposed to be here at 2, but she's late as usual," she told them. "Ask around, she should be here somewhere. And _don't _go flashing your badges around here. You'll scare my patients."

"Thank you, ma'am," Horatio said courteously. She grunted and bustled off to her duties.

"She seems... lovely," Ryan muttered dryly.

"Excuse me, miss?" Horatio said, grabbing another nurse's attention.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Dr. Franci," he said.

Ryan wandered away from Horatio, leaving him to question the nurse. He walked around the admissions desk and made for the hallway Maya had indicated earlier. He walked slowly, taking in his surroundings.

The clinic was very small and quite shabby. Ryan was sure Maya and the other nurses in charge did all they could to keep it nice, but there was only so much they could do. Ryan wished people didn't have to come to places like this just to get decent healthcare. Clinics tried their best, but they weren't hospitals. They didn't have all the necessary equipment, staff, medication... Ryan made himself a mental note to donate part of his next paycheck to this place. It wouldn't be much, but it was something.

He saw a bulletin board about halfway down the hall. He stood in front of it, a small smile spreading across his face. It was full of pictures of children and drawings they must have made for the staff here. There were also pictures of families, Christmas cards, and thank-you notes tacked up to the cork. He leaned in close to inspect a crayon-scrawled note on yellow construction paper. _Thanks for fixing my leg!_ There was a lopsided picture of a stick figure in what looked like a cast. Ryan grinned. He had a couple of notes from people he'd helped, too, at home in a special shoebox he kept them in. Thanks was never necessary, but it always cheered him up to know people appreciated what he did for them.

Ryan suddenly heard a door click shut to his right. It startled him out of his thoughts as he gazed at the pictures. He looked down the hallway toward where the sound came from, but there was no one there. Warily, he slowly walked down the hallway.

A door on his left, the one he was pretty sure he'd heard close, was labeled "Storage." Ryan tapped on it with a knuckle. "Hello?" he called.

He tried the knob; it was unlocked. He pushed the door open slowly. "Hello?" he said again. "Miami-Dade PD, anyone in here?"

He pushed the door all the way open before stepping inside. The walls were lined with tall shelving units, stocked full of piles upon piles of medical supplies. He scanned the shelves as he took a few steps inside. Bandages, medications, syringes, stethoscopes, tongue depressors, cotton balls, rubbing alcohol...

In the far corner of the room, Ryan's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of red peeking out from behind a couple rolls of gauze. He walked to that shelf and nudged the gauze aside in curiosity.

A small, bright red box was tucked behind the other supplies at his eye level. He frowned when he saw it was labeled in stark black letters. "Biohazard – DO NOT TOUCH."

Overcome with curiosity, Ryan flipped open the top of the box. It was full of tiny glass vials, most of them filled with some sort of clear liquid. Ryan picked up one of the empty vials and held it up to his eyes so he could read the tiny label. It was handwritten.

S.I.N.

Three letters scrawled across each label. But other than that, there was nothing else written on the vials. Strange. If this was medication, there would have been an ingredient list or an issuing doctor's name or _something_.

Ryan's gut went cold. This was way too weird. These mysterious vials had to have something to do with...

Excruciating pain exploded at the back of his head. More slammed into him just above his eyebrow as his head crashed against the shelf in front of him, and Ryan suddenly realized he was falling. A loud metallic clang of something heavy being dropped to the floor. He collapsed to the ground, his senses reeling. The vial flew out of his hand, clinking away to roll under the shelving unit.

He landed on his stomach, the ground feeling like it was bucking underneath him. He could barely breathe. His sight was blurry and warped. He lay on the ground, forcing himself to keep breathing in gasps. His throat felt like it was closing up, his stomach threatening to expel its contents. His mind felt suffocated, as if he were drowning.

His thoughts spun out of control. _What's going on?_

His head throbbed in agony, trying to slip him into unconsciousness, but he fought it with all his strength. He tried to move. His appendages twitched feebly, but he couldn't force his muscles to get up.

He heard hurried footsteps somewhere near his head, but he couldn't see anyone. There was the sound of frantic rummaging as someone raced around the room, taking something off a shelf.

Then someone started to hold him down.

Ryan's instincts immediately began urging him to fight back, to move, but he just couldn't. Indistinguishable noise erupted from his throat, but it was so weak, he doubted anyone would be able to hear him outside.

"Shh..." came a woman's soft whisper from right above his ear. His blood ran cold at the sound.

The person pressed herself against his back, pinning down his right shoulder with their right elbow. Their left hand suddenly pressed mercilessly against the gash on the back of his head. It sent a sharp wave of stinging pain shooting up and down his body. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gritted his teeth against the pain.

Just when he thought the pain couldn't get any worse, something bit sharply into his neck.

Ryan again tried to struggle, to get away from whoever was attacking him, but he was so weak they held him down easily. A strange sort of fluid pressure suddenly pushed itself into him sickeningly, through the area where the sting had come from. It felt utterly alien to him. He tried to cry out for help.

_Horatio!_

No sound would come out of his mouth. Through his addled mind, he finally grasped what was happening: Someone was injecting something into his neck.

Panic coursed through his veins, and still he couldn't make himself move.

_HORATIO!_

Suddenly, it was over. The needle was removed from his skin, leaving him with a strange ache in his neck and blinding agony pounding in his head. He distantly heard the sound of the person gathering something off the shelf, then hurrying away from him. The door opened and closed.

And then he was alone.

Ryan lay on the floor for what seemed like an eternity. Nausea roiled in his gut. His head... God, his head hurt so bad...

_Someone... help..._

He felt unconsciousness tugging at his mind. He was too weak to fight anymore.

_...Horatio?..._

His eyes flickered closed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven**

As he spoke with the nurse, who didn't seem to know Dr. Franci very well, Horatio caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see a woman wearing a lab coat walking quickly by.

He recognized her from her internet profile. Dr. Annemarie Franci.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said suddenly, walking away from the nurse. He speedily followed Dr. Franci. He saw she had a red box tucked under her right arm, and she looked like she was in a hurry.

"Dr. Franci?" he called down the hallway.

She didn't look back, only quickened her pace to a jog and dashed out an exit door. Horatio trotted to catch up to her, fingering his gun. Innocent people don't run.

Horatio reached the door she had gone out and froze. There was a small red smear on the handle. He bent down to look at it.

It was blood. And it was wet.

Horatio's gut clenched. He was about to run out the door after her, when suddenly a cold thought sprang up in his mind.

_Where's Ryan?_

Horatio looked back down the hallway, the way the doctor had come from. There was no sign of his CSI. Horatio's heart started to pound. He had a choice here, and he had to make it _now_.

Go after the suspect or find his friend.

He made up his mind in an instant.

Horatio quickly jogged down the hallway, away from the door. His gaze darted left and right, inspecting the doors and rooms he passed, his sharp eyes searching for anything that might lead him to Ryan.

"Mr. Wolfe?" he called.

No answer.

Horatio suddenly stopped in front of a door marked "Storage." He looked down.

There was more blood on the doorknob.

Horatio turned the knob and pushed the door open warily. What he saw nearly stopped his heart.

Ryan was on the floor, lying on his stomach. He wasn't moving.

"Mr. Wolfe!" he cried, racing to his side. He took out his phone as he quickly tried to assess Ryan's condition, kneeling on the ground next to him.

"This is Horatio Caine, I need back-up to 235 Sunset Boulevard, the East Side Clinic. Officer down. Suspect is in flight on foot, possibly in a car. Suspect's name is Dr. Annemarie Franci, send all available units for pursuit. Repeat, officer down!"

Horatio put his phone away and hurriedly bent over Ryan.

A bloody gash on the back of his head was shiny and sticky with blood, his hair matted in a black-red mess. Horatio saw a fire extinguisher on the floor a few feet away; there was blood on the bottom. There was also a small drop of blood on Ryan's neck, a small puncture wound.

Horatio felt a chill run up his spine.

The wound was the right size for a syringe.

"Mr. Wolfe?" he called, desperately trying to wake Ryan up. He placed two fingers to Ryan's carotid; he was beyond relieved to feel a strong, steady pulse. He bent over Ryan's head to listen for breathing. There was.

"Mr. Wolfe?" he called again, louder. "Ryan!"

Horatio gently turned Ryan over onto his back, his body limp. Horatio took Ryan's head in his hands; he surprised himself when he realized they were shaking.

"Ryan, wake up," he ordered, fighting to stay calm.

There was a tiny flicker of movement on Ryan's face.

Horatio felt a wave of relief wash over him. He started patting the side of Ryan's face, trying to coax him out of it. "Mr. Wolfe, you need to wake up. Come on, wake up!"

A small groan finally escaped Ryan. He tightly shut his eyes against the pain.

"Mr. Wolfe, are you all right?"

"…Ow."

Ryan opened one watery eye and squinted up at him. "…Horatio?"

"You okay?"

"Well… I'm seeing three of you, so…"

"Here, try to sit up."

Horatio gently helped Ryan ease his upper half off the ground. The effort sent sharper throbs thudding through Ryan's skull. Horatio leaned him against the shelving unit behind him.

Ryan took deep breaths, forcing his deflated lungs to refill.

"What happened?" Horatio asked.

Ryan put a hand to the gash on the back of his head, jerking his hand away with a hiss of pain when the contact stung him. "I was back here looking for the doctor," Ryan began slowly, speaking carefully to make sure he got everything right. "I came into this room. I was looking at something on the shelf… and then someone hit me. A woman."

Horatio's fears were confirmed. "Dr. Franci just left. She had blood on her hands and was carrying a red box."

"Yeah, that's what I was looking at," Ryan mumbled. "She must have been hiding behind the door... She hit me, I fell… She rummaged around for something, I couldn't see her… And then she…"

Ryan stopped, his memory muddled. He touched his hand to the side of his neck, then looked down at his fingers. There was a small dot of blood on them. He stared at it, his face a strange mix of fear and confusion.

Horatio didn't move or speak.

Ryan suddenly looked down at the floor, at the base of the shelving unit. "I had a vial of the stuff in my hand, it was empty though," he explained quickly. "It rolled under the shelf when I went down…"

He gingerly eased himself down to the ground. He reached under the shelf and grasped the little glass vial. He sat up again, leaning heavily against the shelf as a wave of nausea washed over him. He handed it to Horatio, who read the homemade label perplexedly.

S.I.N.

"She's the one who's been injecting these people, isn't she?" Ryan asked quietly. "Gabriel Marcelino and Kelly Pickett?"

"I believe so, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio answered, still transfixed by the vial.

"Then that's probably the crap she used to... drive them crazy... or whatever you call it," Ryan said, even quieter than before. "S.I.N… Sin. Damn _poetic_, isn't it?"

Horatio didn't answer.

Neither said anything for a long, heavy moment.

"She stuck me with that, didn't she?" Ryan asked, staring fixedly at his hands, his voice barely audible. "The stuff that killed those two people..."

It wasn't a question.

Horatio didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. They both knew.

Ryan had been infected.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** The first third of this chapter will certainly be familiar :P. I really didn't change anything, I didn't think I needed to. Maybe a word here and there, nothing huge. But I promise it doesn't end in the same place it did before, it goes on, haha. I thought it would have been mean to simply post a repeat chapter. And we'll be delving a little deeper into the dark stuff that's about to go down. Suffice it to say… Ryan's in for a whole mess of crap. ;P Here's a nice long chapter for you, hope you like!

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Horatio stood next to the window, staring fixedly out at the trees swaying gently in the wind. He tried to draw some semblance of calm from them, fighting to keep the worry out of his face. He needed to make sure he maintained a perfectly steadfast facade. For his own sake.

For Ryan's sake.

Horatio glanced at his CSI quickly, then looked away before he noticed. Ryan was sitting on the hospital bed, his legs swung over one side, gripping the edges of the bed abnormally tight. His eyes were fixed on the ground below, barely even blinking, lost in his own thoughts.

Alexx silently sutured the gash on the back of Ryan's head, her eyes alight with worry. Her gaze darted back and forth between her work and Horatio. He wouldn't meet her eyes. But they didn't need to; they both knew they were thinking the same thing.

Ryan sighed. "It's gonna come back positive," he muttered.

Alexx swallowed. "We don't know what's going to happen, honey. Just wait for your blood tests to come back."

Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying not to move his head.

The three were silent for a few moments. Alexx snipped the thread deftly. "All done," she said, pushing away the small stand with her suture kit on it.

"Thanks," Ryan mumbled.

"I still want you to get an MRI," she began.

"Really, I'm fine, Alexx," he insisted.

"How long did you lose consciousness for?"

"A few seconds, if even," he said. "I'm fine."

Alexx shook her head. Stubborn as ever. "I'll go check on your tests, okay? I'll be right back."

As she left the room, Horatio distinctly heard Ryan mutter, "I'm really not going anywhere."

Horatio tore his gaze from the window and looked at Ryan. He looked tired. But he didn't look scared. A small twinge of pride squeezed Horatio's heart.

"How are you feeling?" Horatio asked, looking pointedly at the floor.

Ryan sighed again and looked up at the ceiling with bright hazel eyes. They looked even greener in this light than usual. "Okay... for now, I guess."

Horatio's gaze wandered to the small band-aid on Ryan's neck, concealing where the syringe had bitten into his skin.

Ryan had insisted on changing into his street clothes before coming to the hospital. They had needed his work clothes to process anyway, to see if they couldn't find any trace of his attacker, that doctor they were investigating. Ryan was sitting in a plain grey t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black sneakers. He looked a little pale, but other than that, there was no way to tell that anything at all was wrong with him.

"If the test comes back positive, we're gonna admit you to the hospital, okay?" Horatio said quietly.

He had no hope that it would come back negative, try as he might to hold onto it. That doctor had injected that crap straight into Ryan's neck... if what was in that syringe was what they all thought...

Ryan propped his elbows on his knees, his hands over his face. He nodded. "Fine, but I'm not changing clothes," he said quietly through his hands.

"Mr. Wolfe..." Horatio began.

"No, H," Ryan said flatly. "If I'm gonna die, it's not gonna be in a damn hospital gown."

Horatio looked at him sharply. "Mr. Wolfe, you are not going to die."

For the first time since they'd gotten to the hospital, Ryan met Horatio's eyes, hazel-green into piercing blue. Horatio's heart twisted under Ryan's gaze.

Those eyes said it all.

_Don't lie to me._

-|x|-

Ryan felt as if he had slipped out of time. It was like the clock kept ticking, but he stayed where he was. Like that guy in "Slaughterhouse Five." What was his name? Ryan couldn't remember; he hadn't read that book since high school.

It wasn't just time, either. Ryan felt disconnected from everything. The world. The people around him. As if there had been some sort of cable harnessing him into reality, but it had snapped. Leaving him to drift. To think. To wait.

Wait to die.

His stomach clenched at the thought. Dying. It seemed like just an idea when there wasn't a timer counting down the seconds he had left. The worst part was, he didn't even know what the timer said. It was like he could hear it steadily ticking, but he couldn't see it. Did he have weeks? Days?

Hours?

_Stop it_, he told himself forcefully. _You're not dead yet, so quit acting like it. You don't even know if you _will _die from this crap. The other two killed themselves, remember? And neither they nor their families knew what had happened to them, so of course they were unprepared. The team is working on a way to help you, so just sit tight and ride it out. You'll be okay. Just believe in them._

But despite what optimism Ryan tried to instill in himself, the dark part of his mind, the cold logical part, couldn't be silenced.

_You _are _going to die. They can't save you. Dr. Franci got away. It took them hours to just _find _the chemical in the victims' blood, and they don't even know exactly what it is yet. By the time they find a way to reverse this thing, you'll be dead. You'll either kill yourself like Kelly Pickett or the stress will give you a heart attack like Gabriel Marcelino. There's no use hoping._

_There are only two options here: Dying or dying quicker. _

Ryan clenched his jaw until his teeth creaked, his hands balling into tight fists in his lap. He had to fight thoughts like that. Giving up was not going to help anybody, least of all himself.

From his seat on the hospital bed, now sitting with his back to Horatio, he glanced over his shoulder at his comrade, who was still gazing serenely out the window. His friend and mentor suddenly looked a lot older somehow. He hadn't left Ryan's side since he'd been attacked, like a silent guardian keeping watch over him.

It was easier to feel safe when Horatio was around.

-|x|-

Horatio and Ryan, who hadn't said a word to each other in a long time, looked up when Alexx came back in the room, accompanied by another doctor.

"Horatio, why don't you come take a walk with me?" Alexx said gingerly.

Horatio moved to join her, but Ryan held up a hand to stop him. "H can stay," he said. "I already know it's not good news, and he needs to know for the case."

When Alexx hesitated, he added, "I'll just tell him later, anyway."

Alexx sighed and nodded. "This is Dr. Jayashi Karishma. She's a neurologist upstairs and specializes in neurochemistry and neuropsychology."

The younger doctor seemed to glide forward gracefully to shake Ryan's hand. He somehow managed to muster a friendly grin. "So basically you're smarter than everyone else in this room put together," he said dryly.

Dr. Karishma smiled kindly at his joke, but said nothing in return.

Ryan looked over this new doctor interestedly. She was a lot younger than he would have expected for someone in such a difficult and specialized field of expertise, not much older than 30, if that. She was slim and exotically elegant, her silky black hair pulled back in a long ponytail. Her flawless skin was the color of light cinnamon. Her brown eyes were warm and deep, the color of spring earth just after a rainstorm.

"And you are way too beautiful to be a neuroscientist," he added, completely serious.

As Dr. Karishma blushed gracefully, Alexx put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him, her face surprised and indignant. He shot her a look that clearly said, _I'm dying. I'll say what I want, thank you very much_.

"Well, maybe at least having you break the bad news to me won't make it seem too awful," he said quietly, coming back to business. Tension seemed to mount in the air after his words.

Dr. Karishma's lovely face was somber. Her voice was light, and she spoke with a British accent with just a hint of an Indian lilt. "I'm afraid it is bad news, CSI Wolfe…"

"Ryan, please," he interrupted. "I already know what you're going to say, so please… Just call me Ryan."

Her eyes were sad, but she of course stayed professional. Strictly doctor-patient. "All right, Ryan," she amended quietly. "Using the data your other CSI sent over for us… a Miss Boa Vista? We were able to test your blood for the chemical anomaly found in the other two subjects. Your test was positive."

Ryan didn't know why he felt his stomach suddenly sink. He knew that was coming. He supposed sometimes hope was hard to kill after all. It sank even lower when she continued.

"And, based on the saturation levels of the compound in your blood, I believe you were dosed with at least twice the amount of the others."

There was an unbearable silence following her words.

"So what does that mean?" Ryan asked quietly, forcing his voice to remain calm.

"It means that the biochemical aftereffects of the compound will begin for you in half the time it took for the others."

"So I'll go crazy faster," he said numbly.

"We're not sure of the exact effects, Ryan," Alexx said quickly. "They could vary from person to person for all we know. Both Natalia and the lab techs here are working on isolating the compound from the blood so we can get a good look at its structure. Then we'll begin working on a way to reverse it."

"Like an antidote," Horatio remarked quietly. Ryan had almost forgotten he was there, he had been standing so silently.

Alexx nodded. "If we can figure out the chemical composition, we should be able to break it down and begin counteracting it."

While Alexx and Horatio were talking, Ryan looked up at Dr. Karishma. She was watching him, her eyes full of… something. It wasn't pity, thank goodness. That was the last thing he wanted. It was more than benign interest, like how someone would view a possible science experiment. She was definitely seeing him as a person, not just a patient. What was it? Compassion, perhaps with a little curiosity mixed in? Something like that.

Looking at her, Ryan felt a connection with her. He could tell they were on the same page. They both dealt in science, in logic. The proper order of things.

They didn't believe in miracles.

He knew he could count on her to not give him false hope.

Alexx and Horatio discussed the process of isolating the chemical compound and what they could do to begin the reversal process. Ryan, surprising himself, wasn't interested. He didn't need to know about that. He wanted to know about what he _could _prepare himself for.

He looked at Dr. Karishma again, and gestured for her to come closer. She looked back at him, a little unsure of what he wanted. He patted the spot next to him on the bed, unnoticed by Alexx and Horatio, who were still absorbed in their conversation.

Dr. Karishma hesitated. A patient had never been so personal with her before. Usually she was just the figure in a white lab coat, rattling off rehearsed sentiments and studied science, disconnected from the patient as if she were a higher power of some kind. She had to be. Some doctors could handle emotional ties to patients. For her, getting close to patients was never a good idea.

Especially the possibly terminal ones. It hurt too much.

Despite her reservations, Dr. Karishma stepped forward and gracefully took a seat next to Ryan. She uncomfortably realized that he was actually pretty cute. She shoved those childish thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time for silly crushes.

"You at least have some suspicion as to how this thing is going to affect me, right?" he asked her quietly.

His hazel-green eyes were incredibly deep, she realized. She could tell he was the kind of person who'd seen things… Things that others pray their whole life to never see. He'd been around the block a few times, as the American expression went. She supposed it came with the territory of being a police officer, not unlike how it came with the territory of being a doctor.

He was prepared for the worst. She could tell.

"Do you know what BDNF is?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"It stands for brain-derived neurotrophic factor," she explained. Alexx and Horatio stopped talking to listen. "It's a common protein acting mostly in our central nervous system and the brain, particularly in the areas that pertain to memory and higher thinking."

"Sounds important," he mumbled.

"It is," she said. "Basically speaking, it's one of the most active catalysts in the brain. If my calculations are correct, based on your blood samples, this chemical you were exposed to is somehow steadily depleting the BDNF in your system. I don't think it's started yet, really, but it will accelerate as it progresses. This chemical is binding with your BDNF proteins and killing them."

Ryan swallowed and nodded in understanding. "So, um…" He cleared his throat. "What's gonna happen to me?"

She framed her words carefully before saying them. "Low BDNF levels are commonly associated with depression and, in extreme cases, psychotic disorders."

"Like schizophrenia," he whispered.

She nodded. "That being the most common, yes."

"So I _am _gonna go crazy," he said, sounding defeated.

She swallowed. "That is my prognosis, yes," she answered quietly. "It will be gradual. You will probably start to hallucinate, hear and see things that aren't there, irrational fear… Schizophrenia can manifest in many ways."

Ryan rubbed his eyes exhaustedly. "How long do I have?" he asked, barely audible.

"…I can't be exactly sure," she admitted. "As I said, it'll be gradual. But because the dose of this chemical you got was so large, we could start noticing changes anytime between the next few hours and sometime tomorrow."

Ryan closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands tiredly, leaning his elbows on his knees. He sighed heavily.

"We're going to do whatever we can to slow it down," she assured him. "We're going to start you on some low-grade anti-psychotics; they've been proven to help with some types of BDNF deficiencies. They should buy us at least a few hours."

Ryan nodded, his face still in his hands.

Dr. Karishma suddenly found herself placing a hand on his shoulder, surprising herself. She didn't ever remember feeling this much for a patient… She wondered why this cop was affecting her like this…

He seemed more sad than afraid, as if he was more afraid of not living than of dying. As if he felt he still had more to offer the world, and was disappointed he wouldn't get the chance… He intrigued her. Most people would have been sobbing like a child at this point, but not this guy. He was… calm. Resigned.

He'd made his peace with his fate already.

No one said anything or moved for a long time.

Ryan sat up slowly, taking his hands away from his face with another heavy sigh. Dr. Karishma removed her hand from his shoulder. He looked at her with those eyes again. She felt as if he were gazing straight into her soul. He gave her a little half-smile.

"Thanks for being straight with me, Dr. Karishma," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."

She smiled weakly back. "Call me Jay," she said, again surprising herself. She made a mental note to reprimand herself later for being so bloody emotional with this guy. "And you're welcome, Ryan."

Ryan looked down at his lap, then slowly and shakily unclipped the badge from his jeans. Then he removed his gun from its holster.

For a fleeting moment he thought about how maybe he should just end it now, before the poison in his blood beat him to it. If he was going to die, maybe he'd prefer it to be on his terms… _No_, he growled at himself. _Don't be such a wuss. _

Ryan turned around to face Horatio, who was watching him carefully. He reluctantly placed his gun and his badge on the bed behind him. Horatio walked forward, realizing Ryan wanted him to take them.

He didn't want to.

Horatio looked at Ryan questioningly.

The look on Ryan's face was heartbreaking. "When I go insane, I don't want to hurt anybody," he explained quietly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Just to squelch the rumors before they start... No, I will not be adding romance in here between Ryan and Jay. She just wandered into my head as an OC (Probably because I just watched "Slumdog Millionaire" and therefore have awesome Indian people on the brain. Weird, I know. I have never pretended to be normal.) I needed a neurologist for him anyway, and she was up to the task. There won't be any fluffy romance between them, as I said, just kindred-spirit-friendship type stuff. They share the bond of having tough jobs and tough lives. And no, Jay's back-story won't factor into this. I do love her, though. I may bring her over to the novel I'm writing, but I don't tend to put my own romances in my fanfics. It's less complicated that way ;).

Although I personally think Ryan's ideal girl would be a doctor. They're smart and they're CLEAN. :P Which I'm pretty sure would be Ryan's top two priorities, lol. Tara was so close... and then she turned into a druggie. Tsk tsk, she really shot herself in the foot on that one :P.

Wow, that was a long rant. Sorry :P. I'll try to get you your next chapter soon! Love you, thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW! :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine**

Calleigh wandered down the glassy hallways of the lab, lost in thought. The halls were deathly quiet, everyone silently doing their job with more diligence than ever. A dark cloud had descended upon them all.

One of their own...

Those words seemed to continuously hum through the air. No one spoke them, but they were on everyone's mind, endlessly repeating like the eternal, rhythmic pounding of the ocean waves upon the seashore. Each time the thought crashed through their minds like water onto sand, their hope of saving Ryan seemed to crumble ever so slightly, washed out into an empty sea.

Calleigh looked around at her stony-faced colleagues, mechanically going about their work. It was the strangest feeling for all of them, thinking about Ryan. No one really seemed to understand exactly what was happening.

He'd been attacked... But he was okay... But he wouldn't be for long if they didn't find an antidote for some drug he was dosed with... He was at the hospital with Horatio... But there was nothing exactly wrong with him... yet? It was all very confusing.

Calleigh had never seen Natalia so rigid. Her heart went out to her friend; she could only imagine the kind of pressure she must be under. There was a steely, grim frown plastered on her face, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she worked to uncover the drug's chemical composition. Calleigh knew Natalia was close to Ryan. And judging by the look on her face, even though the neurochemists at the hospital were also working to find a reversing agent, Natalia didn't trust anyone but herself to find it and save him. Everyone in the lab was giving her lots of space.

Especially after she'd already reduced one overly curious lab tech to tears.

Calleigh stopped in front of Natalia's door, watching her friend. It took her a few moments to realize she was being watched.

Natalia looked up with a furious look on her face, prepared to tell off whoever was bothering her, but she softened when she saw it was Calleigh. Her big brown eyes were full of more than words could ever express.

Calleigh gave a half-smile and nodded, letting her know that they were all behind her and they believed in her. So did Ryan. Natalia nodded in return, took a deep breath, and bent back over her work.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Calleigh asked quietly.

Natalia shook her head, not taking her eyes off her work. "I think I've done just about all I can at this point. I was gonna head over to the hospital soon, meet up with the team over there and compare notes. And I thought I'd sit with Ryan a bit… Figure he could use a friend…"

Calleigh's heart twisted. She wanted to go see him, too, but she had a lot of work to do, things that could help him. "Tell him I say…" She paused. Say what? What was there _to _say? Whatever she felt for Ryan, as a friend, as a colleague… a little brother… She was sure he already knew. "I say hi."

Natalia nodded, understanding completely. "I'll do that."

Calleigh kept walking. As she passed the break room, she saw Walter was sitting inside, his head in his hands. She hesitated, then entered. She sat down on the couch next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"How you doing?" she asked gently.

Walter sighed. "I don't know," he said distantly. "I just... I don't understand...How did this happen?"

Calleigh thought for a moment before she answered. "Sometimes things happen for a reason... and sometimes they don't."

"I mean, you always know there's a possibility...in this job... Ryan, he..." Walter started, but he couldn't finish.

"I know you're worried about him, Walter," Calleigh said soothingly. "We all are. But the doctors are taking care of him at the hospital. He needs us all here to do our jobs, too."

"I know that," Walter said. "I just don't know what to do..."

"Well, in order to find an antidote for Ryan, we need to get a clean sample of the compound."

"Can't we get that from the blood we have?" he asked.

"The way it binded with the proteins in each victims'..." Calleigh stopped. To think of Ryan as a victim... She forced herself to keep talking, clearing her throat. "Blood, we can't be sure some sort of chemical reaction happened to change the original compound."

"So we have nothing," he said dejectedly.

"Right now, our best shot is finding that doctor," Calleigh said. "She'll know the chemical composition of the substance, she might be able to give us a reversing agent."

"Assuming she'll give it to us."

Calleigh's blood flared with molten anger for that _bitch_ who did this to her friend. "Oh, she'll give it to us," she growled menacingly.

-|x|-

Eric met Horatio outside the Dade University psychology department as requested. Natalia had taken Horatio's place looking after Ryan at the hospital. Eric could read his brother-in-law's face and body language easily as he stepped out of the Hummer to join Eric. His face was like stone, his eyes piercing blue chips of ice contained behind his sunglasses. Every line in his body was rigid with tension, anger and worry.

Horatio Caine was pissed off.

Eric knew Horatio cared deeply for his team, every single one of them. They were his family, and Horatio was the head. He was a brother to Eric and Calleigh, and a father to Natalia and Ryan. When one of them was hit, Horatio felt the pain right along with them.

No one, but _no one_, messed with his team and got away with it. The vengeful fury for the person who'd hurt his family radiating off him was practically palpable as Eric walked with him inside, up the stairs and into the office of the psychology department head.

The professor's name was Dr. Lawrence Ambrosio. The way he condescendingly let them in and viewed them as an annoyance in his oh-so-important schedule… Eric didn't like this guy at all. He had no respect for the badge. His office was a shrine to his own accomplishments. Eric could think of one word to describe the guy.

Prick.

"Annemarie is an absolute gem in our department," Ambrosio told them sourly. "She's a genius. Her breakthroughs in psychogenic illness have lead to countless treatment developments for Asperger's, multiple personality disorder, bipolar disorder… She's the closest anyone's ever come to actually finding a cure for schizophrenia."

"Yes, well, instead of a cure, Dr. Ambrosio," Horatio said coolly. "She's instead found a way to give people the disease."

He scowled at Horatio as if he were a stupid peasant. "That's impossible. Schizophrenia is a genetically derived condition. You can't just _give _it to someone, it's not contagious."

"Her drug S.I.N. is capable of duplicating the symptoms of schizophrenia, only in a more virulent, progressive form," Eric growled.

"I've never even heard of S.I.N.," he shot back. "Even if she did discover such a drug, there's no way Annemarie would ever give it to people. Look, I'm very busy, can we do this some other time?"

"No, we can't," Horatio snarled. "Dr. Franci dosed a police officer with that drug this afternoon. If we don't find her and get information from her about how to reverse it, he's gonna die. I'm not gonna let that happen."

Dr. Ambrosio glared at Horatio, who responded in kind. The temperature in the room seemed to suddenly drop to frigid.

"We're gonna need access to Dr. Franci's office and research lab," Eric said.

"I have to refuse on behalf of my colleague," Ambrosio said. "Her work areas are private and I will not have you going in there and disturbing her fragile experiments."

"We'll just get a warrant, then," Eric said icily.

"Do that," Ambrosio hissed.

It took all of Eric's self control to not punch the guy's lights out right then and there.

"Dr. Ambrosio," Horatio said coldly. "If we find any evidence that you were involved in this experiment, you're gonna go down with Dr. Franci. Do you understand?"

Ambrosio sneered at them as they left his office.

"He's covering his ass," Eric muttered angrily.

"We need to find out why, Eric," Horatio answered.

They were nearly to the stairs when a voice right behind them suddenly spoke.

"Excuse me?"

They turned to see a young man there, obviously a student at the university. He looked nervous about something. His tousled black hair fell over his almond-shaped brown eyes. He had tawny-colored skin and looked to be of East Asian descent.

"I overheard you talking in Prof. Ambrosio's office," he said, checking around him to see if they were being overheard.

Eric and Horatio glanced at each other. "What's your name, son?" Horatio asked quietly.

"Damien, sir," he answered. "Damien Kobayashi."

"Are you a student here, Damien?" Horatio inquired.

The boy nodded. "Sophomore, sir."

"Do you know something about Dr. Franci's experiments?" Eric asked eagerly.

Damien nodded again. "I was her research assistant last summer," he told them. "I needed extra credit toward my psychology minor, and she paid me good money… But I swear, I didn't know this would happen!"

"Damien, I don't want you to worry about that," Horatio said calmingly. "Please, just tell us what you know and you won't be in trouble."

Damien looked frightened. "She creeped the hell out me, man," he began shakily. "She was studying schizophrenia, like Prof. Ambrosio said… But she was really weird about it. She was all into the dark side of it, like, _fascinated _with what the mind could trick people into doing and stuff… It was weird as hell."

"Did she discover a way to induce schizophrenia?" Horatio asked anxiously.

Damien winced. "She thought she could map out the disease as it progressed," he explained. "It's true, what Prof. Ambrosio said, she was looking to cure it… _originally_. The problem with naturally occurring disorders is that it's nearly impossible to track them from the very beginning. They're too random, you know?"

"I understand," Horatio said. "Go on, please."

"So, she got to thinking… If she could actually develop a way to _cause _the disorders in a healthy person, she would have a control group of subjects, and she would be able to basically watch the disease progress. She developed this serum, or something, that messed with the natural chemicals in the brain so badly, it actually took on the same symptoms of schizophrenia." Damien stopped, then whispered, "I just never thought she would use it on _people_…"

"How did she know what the serum did?" Eric asked.

"Lab rats," Damien answered, his eyes horrified by the memory. "She injected about a dozen of them with the stuff. They all gradually showed signs of insanity, hallucinations… They all died within 72 hours. Some killed each other. Some just died on their own. But they _all died_. It scared the hell out of me. And Dr. Franci, she just… _watched_. And what's worse is that she seemed to _like_ it. She called the drug S.I.N., schizophrenia-inducing neurotoxin. She even thought it was cool how it spelled out 'sin.' Just freakin' _weird_. When the summer was over, I took my B+ and ran, okay? I didn't want anything to do with her anymore."

"Understandable," Horatio said. "We're actually looking for Dr. Franci now, do you know where she might go?"

Damien's face was full of remorse. "I heard you tell Ambrosio a police officer got dosed with that stuff. I'm so sorry, if I'd had any idea what she was gonna do with it…"

"Damien, this is not your fault," Horatio insisted. "But you can help us now."

He nodded reluctantly. "She has her own field research lab about twenty minutes away," he said. "She tricked out a storage unit for it. She liked to take her work out there sometimes, get away from the university."

"Do you have the address?" Eric asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Damien said. "I helped her haul equipment out there a couple times."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, I'm starting to actually creep _myself _out a little with the stuff I'm thinking up for this story, lol. Suffice it to say, this stuff's about to get a whole lot _**darker**_... :P Hope you're still liking the story. As always please review, let me know what you think of it so far, and I'll get you more as soon as I can! :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **This kind of turned into a RaiN chapter... I didn't mean for it to be romantic, mind you. It might come across that way, but no. I don't do pairings. NO ROMANCE FOR ANYBODY. :P No, they're just very close friends.

... Wow. This chapter... I... just wow. I am one sick puppy :P. I actually admit, I was getting myself a little choked up at one point, so I hope you ALL CRY. ;P. And then I did... that. Um, wow. I can't say anymore, go read for yourselves. Hopefully it won't traumatize you to read it as much as it traumatized me to write it. I think I may need therapy. No... no, I DEFINITELY need therapy.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Ryan looked up expectantly when Natalia came back in the room, clutching a brown paper bag in her hand.

"Did you get it?" he asked eagerly.

Natalia pulled the paper cup out of the bag with a flourish. "Tada! One extra-large, extra-thick chocolate milkshake with whipped cream on top."

"Oh, you're a saint," he said fervently, taking the cup from her hands. She unwrapped a straw and stuck it through the plastic top for him. He took a sip, and immediately his face lit up with delight.

"That… is _awesome_," he said. "You want some of this?"

Natalia pulled a second straw out of the bag. "Um, hell yeah?"

They each took sips from the milkshake in turns, simply enjoying one another's company. Ryan was glad to not be alone.

Natalia was at war within herself, fighting to keep any semblance of worry or despair from her face. She didn't want to think about the possibility that this could be one of the last moments she had with her dear friend.

The isolation process of the drug was not going well. She'd met with the hospital's chemists, but they were no closer to identifying the compound than she was. Something about how it binded with the blood... It made it near impossible to discern from the natural chemicals already at work in the body.

Natalia watched Ryan carefully, trying not to give away any of her worries. It was so strange to think about what could possibly start happening to him at pretty much any moment. He seemed so... _normal_. He was just sitting up on the hospital bed, his legs folded like a pretzel in front of him. He was wearing his regular street clothes.

The only thing to suggest something was wrong was the IV in his left arm. And, she noticed upon closer inspection, there was the faintest hint of shadow under his eyes. From the stress, she assumed. She couldn't imagine what he must be going through, knowing something was coming but not knowing what exactly...

"So…" he said suddenly, handing her the cup and scratching his left arm. "What's up with you?"

Natalia grinned, taking another drought of milkshake. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" he retorted, grinning. "What's going on in your life? I assume you have one outside of work?"

Natalia laughed. "Are you kidding? A wild night for me is staying up late enough to watch an entire movie. And, when I _really_ let myself go, I even have a little ice cream with it."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Wow. You _are _a party animal."

She chuckled, pulling off the plastic lid and using her straw as a spoon to get at the last bits of whipped cream at the bottom. She handed the cup back to him. "The rest is all yours," she said.

He mimicked her, using his straw to scoop out what little was left of their snack. "You smuggle junk food into a hospital for me," he remarked offhandedly. "You have a _ridiculously _wild social life. And you even let me have the rest of the milkshake. I should've hung out with you more often."

They both fell silent at his words, both noticing how he'd used the past tense. The reality of their situation suddenly came crashing back to them. Natalia's smile vanished and Ryan thoroughly occupied himself with poking the whipped cream at the bottom of the cup with the straw.

The awkward silence stretched onward. Ryan finally placed the empty cup on his bedside table and scratched his left arm again.

"Natalia, I..." he began.

She looked at him, truly met his eyes. She felt as if she were seeing him for the first time all over again.

"I'm sorry for giving you all that crap after I found out you were the mole," he said quietly. "When you became a CSI... I didn't want you there. I just didn't want to trust you. For me, it's easier to just not let people in a second time, and I'm sorry."

Natalia shook her head, fighting back the tears. "You have _nothing _to be sorry for, Ryan," she whispered.

"I'm glad I made an exception with you, though," he pressed on. "You're a great friend, and a great CSI."

Natalia's chin quivered. She wouldn't be able to hold it back much longer. "Please, Ryan, just stop," she begged. "You don't have to apologize to me, or say your goodbyes to me. You're not going anywhere, okay? We're gonna find a way to help you, I promise."

Ryan tentatively reached for her hand with his left. She let him hold it, squeezing his. She sniffed wetly.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked quietly, leaning in close to her.

She dropped her gaze to their joined hands on the bed. She couldn't bear to look into those eyes anymore. "Ryan, please..." she whispered.

Ryan cleared his throat slightly, the emotion catching in his throat. "When I start to go...," he said, practically whispering in her ear. "I don't want you to see me like that, okay? I want you to remember me the way I was."

A tear escaped her eye, landing on her hand with a soft _plink_. She hastily wiped the trail away from her face with her free hand.

He leaned forward slowly until his head rested against hers. He could feel she was trembling with the effort of controlling her sorrow.

"Promise me," he whispered shakily. "If I start acting strange, you have to leave. I don't want you to see. And promise me you won't come back until either I'm back to normal or... dead. Promise me, Natalia."

A quiet sob escaped her, despite her best efforts to contain it. "I promise," she whispered.

He smiled sadly and kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl," he whispered, pulling away from her.

They sat there for a long time, hand in hand. Natalia cried quietly, struggling to get herself back under control. She couldn't take this. Her feelings for Ryan roiled in her heart. He was one of her best friends. Her partner. Her confidante. She loved him like a brother. She couldn't imagine that something so horrible was going to happen to him, and none of them could stop it. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to slowly slip into madness, falling deeper and deeper into it until it killed you...

And most of all she hated that she couldn't do anything about it. The search for an antidote was swiftly coming to a dead end. Without a clean sample of the compound, there was nothing else she could do. She felt so helpless, so useless.

Ryan sat there with his hand holding Natalia's, intending to sit there silently for as long as she needed. He hated to upset her like this, but... it had to be said. It was too important.

He scratched his left arm again. The movement caused Natalia to look up, wiping her streaming red eyes. She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. She let go of his hand to rummage through her purse for a tissue.

"Is your arm okay?" she asked thickly, finding one and dabbing her eyes with it. "Your IV's not bothering you, is it?"

He frowned at her, still scratching. "What are you talking about?"

She pointed. "You keep scratching your arm."

Confused, he looked down as if he hadn't noticed what he'd been doing.

He froze, every muscle in his body tensing. His mouth dropped open slightly, but no sound came out.

Natalia noticed. "Ryan, what's wrong?"

He closed his eyes tightly, then looked back down at his arm. His eyes widened. His breath started coming quicker as he suddenly grabbed her hand again.

"Ryan, what's wrong?" she repeated, her own heart starting to pound.

His eyes were frightened, which terrified her. "Natalia, I need to ask you a very serious question," he said quickly, his voice cracking. "And I need you to answer me honestly, no matter what you think I might want to hear, okay?"

"Ryan, you're scaring me..."

His eyes bored into hers as he took a deep breath to form the words:

"... Are there spiders crawling up my arm?"

Horrified, her eyes darted from his face to his arm and back.

There was nothing on his arm, only the IV, but she could see that he was starting to tremble with fear.

"Ryan, there's nothing there," she said pleadingly. _No, not yet, this can't be happening!_

He closed his eyes again. "Go get Jay," he choked.

"Who?"

"Dr. Karishma, go get her and Alexx, please!" he cried.

Natalia immediately jumped up from the chair and bolted from the room.

Ryan kept his eyes closed, forcing himself to take measured breaths even as panic gripped him. "It's not real," he whispered out loud to himself. "It's not real."

He fought to ignore the tingling sensation of a hundred hairy legs scuttling up and down his bare flesh...

"It's not real," he said louder, clenching his fist.

Something pricked his skin. And again. And again.

His eyes shot open. He looked down at his arm.

The spiders had stopped moving.

They'd instead started biting him, their tiny fangs breaking his skin with one little sting at a time.

Then they started to burrow themselves in under his skin.

Ryan screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **The plot thickens... ;) Again, a million thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, especially those of you who do it for every chapter. I love them dearly! I love _you_! :P I know I've been killing you with the cliffhangers, lol. Sorry about that, it's just my style. I'm afraid you'll leave me if I don't! haha Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to get back to the story. Have at it!**  


* * *

Chapter Eleven**

Horatio, Eric and Frank walked out of MDPD together, heading for the Hummer and Frank's car. After stopping by the lab to check in with the rest of the team, Eric and Horatio had gotten Frank and were on their way out to the field research lab Damien had told them about.

Frank would have loved to get his hands on that doctor and pump some poison into _her_ neck, see how she liked it.

Just as they reached the edge of the sidewalk, Horatio's cell phone rang. He took it out and answered, frowning.

"Miss Boa Vista?" he asked. "Wait, hold on... Natalia, calm down..."

Eric and Frank, standing in front of Horatio, glanced at each other warily; they both knew Natalia was supposed to be with Ryan at the hospital.

"Okay, tell me what happened," Horatio said, trying to soothe her.

Eric watched Horatio carefully. Natalia was usually very together with her emotions. If she was that upset, something really bad must have happened.

It only made him more nervous to see a spark of fear flicker in Horatio's eyes.

"And what are they doing now?" he asked.

Eric wished he could hear the other side of the conversation. Judging by the look on Frank's face, he was thinking the same thing.

"Okay, just hang on, I'll be right there," Horatio said, hanging up the phone. He looked up at the other two men watching him. "I, uh... I have to go. Go to the scene without me, I'll catch up later."

Eric and Frank looked at each other again, their fears confirmed.

"What's going on?" Eric asked.

"Well..." Horatio said reluctantly. "Ryan... he's..."

"It's started," Eric supplied for him quietly.

"Yeah."

Frank's face was stony with rage.

"How bad is it?" Eric asked.

"Natalia said he started hallucinating, but the doctors were able to bring him out of it for now," Horatio explained wearily. "They upped his medication and are keeping him sedated."

"Damn it," Frank muttered murderously, storming off to his car. He got in roughly and slammed the door shut.

Eric and Horatio watched him go, then turned back to each other.

"Eric, our best chance of helping Ryan is Dr. Franci's knowledge of S.I.N.," Horatio said.

Eric nodded, looking at the ground. "Yeah. If she's at this address, I'll make sure Frank doesn't kill her before she gives us the information. Call me if there's any news about Wolfe?"

"You got it."

-|x|-

Jay took a syringe and injected the next round of anti-psychotics into Ryan's IV bag. This medication was far more powerful than what she'd had him on before. With a twinge of guilt, she knew her calculations had been off. His BDNF levels were dropping faster than she'd predicted, which was why the drugs she gave him before didn't hold off the hallucinations longer.

Dr. Woods was sitting at Ryan's bedside. Jay could tell she was beyond worried. Before this, she hadn't known Dr. Woods well, other than by reputation, since she was usually downstairs and Jay worked upstairs. Alexx was leaning forward, her elbows on the bed, her hands clasped together over her mouth. She was watching Ryan's face, obviously deep in thought. Her eyes were watery.

Jay looked away from her. This was just too tragic a case. Even though she'd only met Ryan a few hours ago, she could already tell that he was the last person in the world who deserved this. She could tell by the way he had acted when confronted with his fate, and by the way his friends were utterly distraught by the circumstances.

She could tell he was a good man.

Again, she was bewildered by the profoundly strange effect he was having on her. She always kept her patients at a distance. She was their caretaker, nothing more. She did what she could to make them better and then send them home to their families. When she couldn't, she made them as comfortable as possible until the end. Jay treated her doctor-patient relationships as simply as possible. She either could fix them, or she couldn't. God had nothing to do with it.

And yet for this cop, this random guy she didn't even know, she found herself doing what she hadn't done in many years: she sent up a small prayer to whoever would listen. _Help me save him._

Jay, growing quite uncomfortable with all these emotions she was experiencing, walked from the room, leaving Ryan under Alexx's watchful eye. She strode out into the hallway, oddly relieved to get away from that heartbreaking room.

The young woman who'd come to see Ryan, a colleague of his, Jay had gathered, was sitting in a chair just outside the room, her face in her hands. Jay hesitated in front of her, wanting to offer some form of comfort. She'd been absolutely terrified when she'd come running out of Ryan's room, desperately calling Jay's and Alexx's names.

Jay had finally come running, to find Ryan severely agitated on the bed, yelling something about spiders. He'd begged Jay to make it stop, so she swiftly loaded a syringe with a sedative and gave it to him. He relaxed immediately and passed out.

Jay had shocked herself when she realized she was shaking. She'd handled psychotic people everyday, it's not like she was new to the drill. Maybe she was just scared that there was a drug out there that could drive someone crazy like this… in all her years a neuropsychologist, she'd never even heard of such a thing.

Jay was startled out of her thoughts when she saw a familiar-looking man with red hair and sunglasses come hurrying down the hall toward her.

"Natalia!" he called.

The young woman in the chair looked up. Her eyes were red, but the tears had since stopped. "Horatio," she breathed, utterly relieved.

She stood up from the chair and threw her arms around him fiercely, burying her face in his chest. He seemed surprised by the contact, but consoled her all the same. He looked up and saw Jay standing there.

"Dr. Karishma," he said. The woman he'd called Natalia let go of him and stood next to him.

"Lieutenant," Jay answered.

"How is he?" he asked.

Jay's heart twisted again. _What the hell? Get a grip, Jayashi._ "He's sedated now," she explained. "I put him on more medication to try to bolster his BDNF levels, but they're still decreasing. It's not slowing down the process fast enough."

"Can't you give him more?" Natalia asked pleadingly.

Jay shook her head sadly. "I'm already borderline overdosing him," she said. "Any more will start shredding his organs."

"So will you keep him sedated then?" Horatio asked.

"We can't put him under for long periods of time," she explained. "It's been clinically proven that sleep only accelerates the rate of BDNF depletion. Our only two options are to try to ride out the hallucinations as they come, try to keep him calm, and only sedate him in the extreme case. But we run the risk of him hurting himself or someone else in his mania. Or we keep him under until we can find a more long-term option, but the risk there is faster BDNF depletion. And if it falls low enough, his lungs will shut down and he'll lose the ability to breathe on his own, maybe permanently."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Horatio remarked quietly.

Jay nodded. "I think the first option would be the lesser of two evils. The hallucinations will be upsetting, but it'll certainly be the option that gives us more time to find the cure."

Horatio and Natalia nodded silently in agreement.

"Dr. Woods is in with him now if you'd like to see him," she said gingerly. "I'll be back to check on him."

"Thank you, Doctor," Horatio said.

Jay nodded, then walked away. She didn't particularly want to leave Ryan, but she needed a moment to clear her head.

-|x|-

Horatio stopped when Natalia didn't follow him into the room. He looked at her questioningly.

"He made me promise," she whispered shakily. "To leave once he started to… you know."

Horatio smiled sadly. "I understand."

"I should get back to the lab anyway," she said. "I need to keep working on finding the chemical composition."

Horatio nodded. "Eric and Frank are on their way to Dr. Franci's field lab. If they find anything, they'll let you know immediately."

She nodded, then hurried away.

Horatio entered the room, his heart squeezing at the sight.

Ryan was lying down on the bed, still in his street clothes, on top of the covers rather than under them. He was sleeping fitfully, barely moving at all. The sensitive skin under his eyes was red, and the rest of his skin was pale.

He looked awful.

Alexx looked up at Horatio when came in, her eyes haunted. She gave him a tentative smile, which he returned. He took a seat on the other side of the bed from her. They spoke quietly, like how a father and mother would talk near their sleeping child.

"How's he doing?" Horatio asked quietly.

Alexx rubbed Ryan's hand gently. "The same as always," she said. "He's a tough one, Horatio."

Horatio nodded. "He is."

Ryan's breathing was coming shallow and quick. His sleep didn't seem to be restful at all. Horatio could only imagine what was going on inside his mind.

"What happens when the sedatives wear off?" he asked hesitantly.

"I honestly don't know," she said sadly. "He could be back to normal for a while, or maybe the hallucinations will start right back up again. We won't know until then."

Horatio's cell suddenly started ringing. "Excuse me," he said, getting up and walking toward the hallway to answer it."

"Frank," he said.

"H, we got a problem out here at the address that kid gave us," Frank said, sounding agitated.

"What kind of problem?" Horatio asked.

"One of the patrol officers found a dead body in a dumpster down the alley from the lab," Frank said.

"We can't handle another case right now, Frank," Horatio told him. "Call in the night shift."

"You don't understand, H," Frank insisted. "The victim had a wallet in her pocket, with an ID inside. H… the dead body is Dr. Annemarie Franci."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Twelve**

Horatio got out of the Hummer and ducked quickly under the crime scene tape, heading toward the storage unit. Frank was outside it, waiting for him.

Tom appeared around the corner of the building, helping two of his orderlies roll a gurney with a body bag on it. Horatio walked up to it.

"Let me see, please," he ordered quietly.

Tom unzipped the bag for him.

It was definitely her. Dr. Franci. The woman he'd seen running out of the clinic that afternoon with his CSI's blood on her hands. Horatio's blood ran cold with hatred for this woman. He was secretly pleased to see her corpse.

He nodded to Tom, who moved the gurney along to go load it into his van, then walked over to Frank.

"Tom said cause of death was probably blunt force to the back of the head," Frank growled. "Said her skull was crushed. Someone was pissed off. Can't say I feel sorry for her."

"None of us can, Frank," Horatio said quietly.

"Calleigh got here a few minutes before you did," Frank said. "She's inside with Delko."

"Thank you, Frank," Horatio said, walking past him to enter the storage unit. He saw Damien hadn't been kidding when he said Dr. Franci had "tricked it out." There were microscopes, filing cabinets, chemistry equipment, Bunsen burners and medical supplies spread all over the place, on tables and on metal shelving units.

As he entered the room, he saw Eric and Calleigh standing together in a corner, next to what looked like a metal barrel. They were talking in low voices with worried expressions on their faces. They looked at Horatio as he came in.

"How's Ryan?" Calleigh asked.

"He's hanging in there," Horatio said. "What do we have here?"

Eric and Calleigh glanced at each other. "You'd better come take a look at this, H," Eric said quietly.

Horatio walked quickly over to where they were and looked inside. There was a pile of black debris inside, coated with a white substance. He looked at them questioningly.

"When we got here, this was on fire," Eric explained. "It's a firing barrel. I put it out before more evidence was destroyed."

"Evidence?"

Calleigh handed him a charred piece of paper, which she'd obviously pulled out of the barrel. He took it carefully and held it up to his eyes. He didn't know what he was looking at for a moment. Then he recognized the letters O and H, and then a dash.

It was a piece of a chemical formula.

"Have you looked at the other material in there?" Horatio asked, his voice strangled.

"We poked around a little, not very deep," Calleigh answered quietly. "We found mostly paper, but there was also a lot of glass and Eric found a piece of red cardboard."

"Red cardboard," Horatio echoed hollowly. "Just like the box she kept the S.I.N. in."

They all fell silent, looking at the ground.

Horatio said what they were all thinking.

"She burned her research," he said tonelessly. "Her notes, the drug samples, even the box she kept them in."

Eric sighed, rubbing his eyes. _What the hell do we do now?_

"She destroyed our last shot of saving Ryan, didn't she?" Calleigh whispered.

"Whoever killed her did," Eric pointed out, his temper flaring.

"Maybe not," Horatio suddenly said.

Eric and Calleigh looked at him, surprised.

"What do you mean?" Calleigh asked.

Horatio looked at her with a strange glint of excitement in his eye.

"I think it's time we went back to school."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Another short one, I know. Sorry. But I think the next chapter is going to be so awesome, you won't begrudge me for it... ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Special Note: **I uploaded this chapter yesterday and wrote the A/N. Today, when I go to publish it... OH. MY. GOD. You would not believe it. My Internet stopped working. Usually that wouldn't be a problem, I just use my computer at work. TODAY'S MY DAY OFF. So I hunted down a library (I'm living in a totally different state for a summer internship. No idea where anything is.). I found one. So I WALKED 15 miles in the snow... okay, I lied about that one. It was only like 1 mile and it is July after all... Found the library. Went to go use the computer, but I needed an ID number. So I JOINED the library and got a library card just so I could use the computer. THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU! lol don't ever say I don't love my readers! If you're happy with my epic efforts on your behalf, thank me by leaving a BIG LONG REVIEW, LIKE TWO PAGES LONG! lol ok, it doesn't have to be that long... one page would suffice... ;)

**Author's Note: **This chapter was surprisingly hard to write lol. I think I stared at the screen for a good half-hour with my mouth hanging open. Curse you, writer's block! But I think it came out okay. It's hard writing like a crazy person! :P I mean, I'm not sane, but... you know. I can only hope I did it justice. I also think it's oddly appropriate that this is chapter 13. Hmm... whatever does that mean, Em? Read on to find out! :) Enjoy! And as always, please please PLEASE review!**  
**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Walter made his way slowly down the hospital hallway, looking for the room number Natalia had given him. He was almost hesitant to visit Ryan; Natalia had been very shaken up when she'd told him what happened during her own visit. He'd made himself come anyway. His friend needed him.

Walter finally found the room he was looking for. He walked in and saw Ryan lying on the bed, hooked up to an IV and a heart-lung monitor, Alexx sitting next to him. She looked up when he came in and smiled.

"How's it going?" Walter asked.

Alexx shrugged, looking at Ryan. "We're just waiting for the sedatives to wear off. Should be soon."

"I'll sit with him for a bit if you want to go get some food or coffee or something," he offered.

She smiled. She didn't need anything, but she could of course tell Walter wanted some time alone with his friend. She stood up, nodding, and patted his shoulder as she passed him to leave.

Walter took the seat she'd vacated next to the bed. He sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

He looked at Ryan, and he couldn't help but smirk. Of course Ryan had refused to change out of his regular clothes. Walter understood why he hadn't wanted to wear one of those silly-looking hospital gowns.

"Always gotta be the tough guy, huh?" Walter remarked amusedly.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, all humor leaving him. He couldn't understand why this was happening to Ryan. Walter had just seen him that morning and he was perfectly fine. And then out of nowhere they get a call from Horatio at the lab that he was taking Ryan to the hospital. It had all happened so fast. As Walter watched Ryan sleep, he found it hard to believe that he was sick. He kept thinking that any second, he would wake up, mutter some smartass comment and demand to be taken back to the lab so he could get back to work.

Walter's cell phone suddenly started ringing, startling him out of his thoughts. He stood up and walked to the window to talk. It was Calleigh calling with an update about the case. His back was to Ryan.

He didn't see his friend's eyes suddenly fly open.

-|x|-

Ryan felt awake, and yet he knew he was still sleeping, as if he was stuck in some sort of meditative in-between. His throat felt thick and his mind felt thicker. He vaguely began to discern a faint, rhythmic beeping.

_What the hell is that?_

He tried to wake up. He felt as if he had awoken at the bottom of a deep ocean. The water was a crushing blackness surrounding him at all angles. There was nothing above, below or around him, only shadow.

Fear began seeping into him. He had to get out of here.

_The signal…_

They were coming.

He could feel the signal getting stronger. As he felt it grow, approaching, his heartbeat quickened.

He had to wake up. He had to get out of here!

Ryan felt as if he were floating upward, climbing through the darkness. His head felt lighter as he rose higher and higher. The beeping was getting louder. Ryan tried to move faster.

A loud ringing noise erupted next to him. He was almost there…

Ryan's eyes shot open. He was lying on a bed in a brightly lit room. Too bright. He heard a familiar voice. He looked to his right.

Walter was standing with his back to him, holding his cell phone to his ear.

Ryan's heart clenched in terror.

_No! The signal!_

The beeping was very loud now and getting faster. With a jolt, he realized it was sounding along with each painful thud of his heart against his ribcage. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

_They found me!_

Fighting to stay calm, Ryan looked down at his chest. Wires ran from under his shirt into the machine next to his bed, where the beeping was coming from. There was another wire running from the crook of his left elbow up to a plastic bag full of some sort of liquid.

Ryan's breath hitched in his chest with a fresh wave of panic. He had to get out of here. He had to get away from them! They'd already caught him, hooked him up to their machines, and now they were after Walter! He couldn't let them get his friend!

Ryan, unnoticed by Walter, who was talking into the phone and looking out the window, quickly sat up and pulled off the small strip of tape that was holding down the wire on his arm. His stomach lurched when he saw they'd put a needle under his skin. He hastily pulled it out, ignoring the ensuing sting. The place where he pulled it out from started oozing blood.

They'd probably figure out he was escaping soon. He had to be quick.

Ryan took hold of the electrodes on his chest and yanked them off.

A few things happened all at once. The machine next to his bed immediately began sounding an alarm. It scared Ryan to death. Walter whipped around in surprise. His eyes widened when he saw Ryan was up and moving. He mumbled something into the phone and hastily hung up, hurrying forward to Ryan's side.

"Wolfe, what the hell…"

Ryan swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Come on, Walter," he snapped. There was no time to explain, they had to get out _now_.

His big friend didn't move, to his surprise. "Whoa, what's going on, man?"

"Let's go, we have to get out of here!" Ryan snarled, starting to stand up.

He was shocked when Walter placed his hands on Ryan's shoulders, his eyes frightened. "Ryan, you need to stay in bed."

Ryan looked at him in utter confusion. "Are you _nuts_?" he demanded. "We can't stay here, they'll find us! They'll do to you what they did to me!"

Walter looked thoroughly terrified now. "They…? Ryan, no one's going to do anything to either of us…"

"They're here, I can _hear_ them!" Ryan insisted. "I can hear the signal!"

Why was Walter being so stupid?

"Okay. Ryan, you need to calm down," Walter said, trying to nudge Ryan back down onto the bed. "You're not yourself, man. Just chill out for a second and I'll go get the doctor."

Ryan stared up at his friend, dumbfounded. It couldn't be…

"They got you," he whispered.

Walter shook his head fervently. "Ryan, no one got me…"

But Ryan wasn't listening. His eyes were filled with more terror than Walter had ever seen in a person. He started hyperventilating, suddenly struggling to get away from Walter.

"Let go of me!" Ryan screamed, fighting with all his might, but Walter was just too strong for him.

"Help! Someone help!" Walter yelled, wrestling Ryan back down onto the bed. His friend was fighting him with almost superhuman strength.

Ryan started screaming incoherently as Alexx and two nurses suddenly burst into the room, horrified. It took all four of them to hold Ryan down.

As Walter and the nurses fought to pin down Ryan's flailing limbs, Alexx grabbed hold of either side of Ryan's face, forcing him to look at her.

"Ryan, I need you to calm down," she begged, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's okay, no one's going to hurt you…"

"They got Walter!" he pleaded, his breath coming in rasps. He was in absolute hysterics. "Alexx, I have to get away, or they'll get you too!"

Alexx shook her head, the tears starting to fall. "No, baby. You'll be okay, we're going to take care of you."

"Alexx, _please_," he begged, still fighting vainly against their hold. Why wasn't anyone _listening_ to him?

Jay suddenly came running into the room. Ryan felt a slight twinge of relief. _Finally_, someone who might listen to sense!

"Jay, you gotta help me!" he cried. "Please!"

She looked at him fearfully, then turned to one of the nurses. "Go get 40 mgs of etomidate and 5 of Haldol," she ordered, taking the nurse's place holding him down.

Ryan's eyes widened in terror. He knew exactly what that meant.

He started kicking and flailing even harder than before, bellowing at the top of his lungs. Tears began pouring down his face. It was taking the strength of Walter, Alexx, Jay _and _the nurse just to keep him on the bed.

The other nurse came back in the room, a syringe in her hand. Walter couldn't bear to listen to his friend's terrified screams much longer. Alexx was sobbing, desperately trying to calm Ryan down with soothing words, but it was like he couldn't even hear her.

"Walter!" Ryan cried, his overflowing eyes desperate. "Don't let them put me to sleep!"

Walter felt tears begin to prick his own eyes. "I'm sorry, man," he said pleadingly.

The look Ryan gave him was burned in his memory: the look of one utterly betrayed by a friend.

"Alexx," he sobbed. "_Please_."

She stroked his hair gently, tears flowing freely from her eyes. "It's okay, baby. Shh…"

Jay took the syringe from the nurse and picked up an alcohol wipe from a tray near his bed. She walked briskly to the head of the bed and rubbed a spot on his arm with the alcohol wipe.

He tried to shy away from her touch, but the others were stopping him. He renewed his attempts to break out of their hold, but they were growing feebler by the moment. He gazed at Jay with deepest hurt in his eyes.

"Jay…," he whispered desperately.

She steeled herself, her face set like stone, and inserted the syringe of sedatives into his skin.

He cried out in pain, still trying to struggle, but the drug took effect quickly. He stopped yelling, reduced only to the quiet sobs of the most heinously tormented soul. Within a few moments, his eyes rolled up in his head, and his body went limp.

The four people holding him down finally let go.

"Get the hard restraints," Jay ordered quietly, injecting Ryan with the Haldol, a powerful antipsychotic.

Alexx looked at her, shocked, as the nurses scurried to obey.

Jay looked her straight in the eye. "We can't afford that to happen again," she said simply. "He needs to be restrained. You understand?"

Alexx hesitated, sniffing. Then she nodded reluctantly, starting to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Jay nodded curtly, business-like, then strode from the room.

As the nurses began attaching the restraints to the bed-frame and fitting them over Ryan's wrists and ankles, Alexx turned and saw Walter had gone to the wall near the window, leaning his forehead against it.

Alexx approached him, then put a hand to his back, rubbing it soothingly. She was surprised when she realized this big guy, who looked like he would never be scared of anything, was shaking uncontrollably.

-|x|-

Jay staggered to the bathroom, hoping no one saw her. Her throat felt like it was closing up on her, her eyes burning. She could barely breathe as she shoved open the door into the blessedly vacant lavatory.

She practically threw herself against the sink, gripping the cool porcelain and using it to hold herself up. She forced herself to take deep, measured breaths. She looked in the mirror and watched herself breathe in and out.

When she finally felt she had regained her control, she stood up and began walking back out of the room.

Jay almost got to the door when she stopped, turned around and practically dove into the nearest stall before she vomited.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I added that last bit late. Didn't want you to think my beloved OC was cold-hearted. Far from it ;). More soon! Thanks for all the love and support! My goodness, I'm just not cutting poor Ryan any breaks, am I? :P I know, I know... I'm evil. It happens ;P.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Yay, the Internet's fixed! :)**

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Chapter Fourteen

"Walter? Hello?"

Calleigh looked down at her phone and was confused to see the call had ended. Horatio came out of the admissions building of Dade University and walked toward her, where she was leaning against the Hummer. Eric had stayed behind at the storage unit to collect evidence. Horatio saw the look on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I was just talking to Walter. He's at the hospital with Ryan, thought I'd fill him in on the case. There was this loud noise in the background, like an alarm, and he just hung up."

Horatio's eyes were filled with worry. "That doesn't sound good."

"Well, Alexx is there with him, too, so..." Calleigh mumbled, trying to reassure herself more than Horatio.

"They'll call us if anything happens," Horatio said quietly.

Calleigh shook herself. "You're right," she said quickly. She cleared her throat. "Did you find Damien?"

"According to the registrar, he should be getting out of History 293 in twenty minutes," he affirmed. "We're headed to Marshall House."

-|x|-

Calleigh and Horatio stood outside Damien Kobayashi's dorm room in Marshall House. It was pretty quiet, being in the middle of the day. One boy had stumbled past them on the way out of the bathroom, shot them a funny look, then disappeared into his own room.

They stood in silence, both contemplating their own thoughts. Calleigh had finally gotten Walter back on the phone after three tries. His voice was strained when he'd told her of Ryan's most recent psychotic break, how they'd had to sedate him again and that now he was in restraints.

Calleigh had relayed the message to Horatio, whose gaze fell with every word. He looked downright heartbroken when she told him about the restraints. After that, they didn't say anything to each other for a long time. The last place either of them wanted to be at that moment was somewhere other than the hospital, looking after Ryan. But he needed them to keep working. They made a silent agreement to never rest until they caught this killer and found a way to save their friend.

"How do we know Damien's gonna be here?" she asked him quietly.

"The woman in the registrar's office told me he's on the soccer team," Horatio explained. "They practice every day at 5 o'clock. He probably has to change clothes or at least drop off his books. If he's not here soon, we'll go to the soccer fields."

"Never mind, we don't need to," she said, looking past him down the hall. Horatio turned. Damien was walking towards them. He didn't see them, he was too busy texting.

"Damien!" Horatio called.

Damien jumped, looking up from his phone. He looked surprised to see them there.

"Officer?" he said, startled. "What's going on?"

"We need to talk, Damien," Horatio said. "It's very important. Can we come inside?"

Damien stared at him for a second, as if not quite understanding, then shook himself. "Um, sure..."

He quickly hurried forward to unlock his door and lead them inside. It was a typical college-boy's dorm room.

A disaster.

He looked sheepish as Calleigh and Horatio filed in. "Sorry about the mess," he muttered, hastily picking up a pair of boxers and chucking them into the closet. "What's up?"

"Damien, Dr. Franci is dead," Horatio said.

The boy visibly paled in front of them, his mouth dropping open. "Bu... Wha... How?" he stammered.

"She was murdered at the field lab you told us about," Horatio said.

Damien looked horrified. "You think she was killed for her experiments?" he asked shakily. "That schizophrenia stuff I told you about?"

"We believe so," Horatio said quietly. "The problem, Damien, is that no one else in the psychology department seems to have been aware of this experiment. As far as we can tell, the only two people who knew about the whole thing were Dr. Franci... and you."

Damien's eyes widened. "Whoa, hold up!" he exclaimed, backing away from them against his desk. "You don't think I killed her, do you?"

"No, Damien, I don't think you killed her," Horatio said calmly. "We got your class schedule from the registrar. We called Prof. Shae. She confirmed you were in her economics class at the time of the murder."

Damien breathed a huge sigh of relief. "I guess I picked a damn good day to not skip..."

"But we need your help again," Horatio pressed. Time was of the essence here. "The police officer Dr. Franci dosed with S.I.N. is getting sicker. All of Dr. Franci's research notes and drug samples were destroyed at the field lab. We need to know everything you know about her experiments."

"I tried to forget everything," Damien said, shaking his head. "As I said before, that stuff freaked me out."

"Anything at all you can remember might help," Calleigh insisted.

"What exactly did you do for Dr. Franci?" Horatio asked.

"The usual scut work... hauled equipment, did research, clean-up, set-up, dictations..."

"Dictations?" Horatio echoed.

"Yeah, she talked while she worked and I wrote it down," Damien said. "Some of it was really messed up..."

"Did she keep your notes in her office?" Calleigh asked eagerly.

"I don't know," he answered. "She made me transcribe my notes onto the computer for her every night. Said she couldn't read my handwriting. Took me forever."

"Damien, do you still have your handwritten notes?" Horatio pressed, his voice strained with tension.

The boy thought hard for a moment, then turned around to rummage through his desk. He pulled a stack of notebooks out of one drawer and hastily began flipping through each of them.

Calleigh and Horatio glanced at each other, both antsy with nerves.

Finally, Damien handed Horatio a blue marbled notebook. "Keep it," he said darkly. "I don't ever want to see that thing again."

Horatio opened the notebook and hastily began flipping through the pages. His eyes lit upon one in particular.

Scrawled across the entire page in partially smudged black ink was a large chemical formula. Horatio's heart skipped a beat. He held up the page for Damien to see.

"Damien...," he whispered. "Is that the chemical composition for S.I.N.?"

Damien looked at it, then at Horatio, and nodded.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Fifteen**

Walter sat silently at Ryan's bedside, restlessly watching his friend. Ryan's screams still sounded in his ears, each helpless cry he'd uttered seeming to reverberate painfully through Walter's soul. The hallucination had been a terrible ordeal, and Walter could only imagine what it must have been like for his friend.

Ryan slept fitfully. His eyes moved behind his closed lids, obviously dreaming. Walter could only hope the dreams were kinder than reality. Every so often, Ryan moaned quietly or mumbled something incoherent, but Walter could never fully distinguish what he was saying.

Walter found himself dreading the moment when Ryan would wake up again. Alexx and that other doctor – Jay, Ryan had called her – had explained to him that as the S.I.N. continued to degrade his system, any moments of lucidity would come less frequently and not last as long. There would come a time when they would stop altogether, and Ryan would be in a constant state of psychosis.

Walter didn't think he could take another bout of insanity from his friend.

Walter was mostly afraid that realizing he was in restraints would send Ryan over the edge again. He could only hope that when he did wake up again, Ryan would be sane enough to understand why his friends had done this to him.

Ryan stirred, causing Walter to look up uneasily.

_Here we go._

Ryan's eyes opened blearily. He looked exhausted, and Walter didn't blame him. He looked around a little, until his eyes found Walter. He gazed at him blankly.

Walter gave him a timid smile. "Hey, man. You okay?"

Ryan didn't answer. Instead, his gaze drifted down to the thick leather straps lashing his wrists and ankles to the bed-frame. His eyes widened slightly in fear.

"It's okay, Ryan," Walter said quickly. "Those are just there so you don't hurt yourself."

Ryan looked at him again and blinked. He swallowed thickly and licked his parched lips. He opened his mouth to speak. Walter braced himself for whatever madness might come out…

"Can I have some water?" Ryan rasped. "My head is killing me."

Walter breathed a huge sigh of relief. His friend was back, if even for a little while.

"Yeah, I'll go get you some water," Walter said, smiling. He stood up to leave, picking up the plastic pitcher from the bedside table.

"I'm hungry, too," Ryan added quietly.

"I'll go down to the cafeteria, see what I can find for you, okay?"

Ryan closed his eyes tiredly. "Thanks, Walter," he whispered.

Walter nodded and left.

Ryan's eyes snapped open, wide awake, his nerves buzzing. They'd gotten Walter. And Alexx and Jay. He had to stop them before they got someone else.

He had to escape.

Ryan sat up and started tugging on the restraints. Damn, they were on tight. He pulled with all his might, but he couldn't get them to move. He couldn't slip either of his hands out, either. The leather was starting to chafe his skin. His pulse thudded in his ears, panic rising in his chest.

He needed something to help him slip his hands out, at least his left one… If he could get it free, he could easily undo the other three straps. He'd be free.

Ryan looked up at the IV bag of liquid hanging above him.

_That could work…_

If he could knock it over, maybe he could rip a whole in the bag and wet his wrist…

_No, that's too risky… If it falls over and makes a loud noise, someone might come in and then you're finished._

And then Ryan realized his only option, short of chewing off his hands and feet. That would take too long, anyway. This way might just work…

Ryan placed his left arm against the bed railing and pressed down until his arm was as straight as it would go. He leaned down over it as far as he could, the muscles in his back and neck wrenching with the effort.

He used his teeth to pull off the tape holding down the needle in his arm and spit it out over the side of the bed. The skin surrounding the injection site was bruised from the day's repeated removal and insertion.

Ignoring the sharp aches in his back and neck, Ryan then began painstakingly pulling the needle out from under his skin, again using his teeth. For one horrible moment, he didn't think he'd be able to get it, but then it slid out.

Ryan fell back against his pillow, breathing hard, the thick needle triumphantly clamped between his teeth. His back burned from the awkward positioning and pressure. He allowed himself a few seconds of rest before sitting up again to get back to work.

The restraint only allowed him to hold his hand up so far, so he bent down again to reach it. He used his left hand to reposition the needle in his mouth until it was firmly gripped in between the thicker, stronger molars along the side of his mouth.

He couldn't afford to drop it. He only had one shot at this.

He just hoped the damn thing was sharp enough.

Ryan took a breath, laying his left wrist against his face so that the needle was positioned just below the leather strap. Then, pressing as hard as he could, he dragged the needle across his flesh.

The needle stung sharply as it tore open the pale, sensitive skin over the inside of his wrist. He felt warm blood begin steadily seeping out of the thin slash and begin soaking into the leather strap.

He needed more.

He slit open his wrist again and again until blood was flowing freely from the razor-thin gashes, dampening the leather strap. His heartbeat throbbed underneath his mutilated flesh, but he ignored the pain.

When he thought just about enough blood had flooded into the leather, making it much more supple, Ryan renewed his efforts to slip his hand out.

His thumb joint creaked and popped painfully as he tried to force it through the too-small opening in the strap. His hand was shaking from pain and blood-loss. He grunted with exertion, desperately trying to pull his hand out.

The leather gave just a little.

With a mighty yank, his hand finally slipped through the softened leather, now soaked rusty-red with his blood.

Ryan lost no time celebrating his elation at finally being free. He quickly began fumbling with the other straps, starting with his right hand. His fingers shook, but he forced them to keep working even as sticky blood continued oozing out of the countless slashes in his wrist.

His right hand was free after some considerable effort. The ankle straps were far easier to work with two hands. They were undone in a matter of seconds.

Ryan looked up at the heart monitor next to his bed, remembering how it had given him away the last time he'd tried to escape. He quickly found the power switch and flicked it off before the removing the electrodes from his chest again.

Ryan leaped off the bed. They'd taken his shoes, but he was partially grateful, since his bare feet hardly made a sound when they landed on the floor.

Ryan hurried to the door, and warily looked left and right before entering the hallway. He had to avoid capture at all costs. Seeing no one he recognized, he set off down the hall, ignoring the steady drip of blood from his wrist. No one else seemed to notice the small, red droplets that followed him as he hastened down the hall.

Ryan sincerely wished he hadn't given Horatio his gun. He needed a weapon, he needed to be able to protect himself from anyone who might try to catch him and take him back.

Take him back to _them_.

He came to a door marked "Storage." He slipped inside, unnoticed by anyone else in the hallway. He immediately began rummaging through the drawers, looking for anything he could use for protection. Finally, he found something labeled "cricothyrotomy kit." He ripped it open.

Inside there were a few sterile drapes, a tube... and a scalpel.

He picked it up and hurriedly tucked it into his pocket, just in case. He left the rest of the kit and quickly exited the storage closet before someone saw him.

He padded quickly down the hallway, heading for the stairs. He had to get out, get way from other people. It was the only way.

Ryan had to kill them.

-|x|-

Walter walked back to Ryan's room, the filled pitcher in one hand and a sandwich in the other. When he stepped into the room, he froze.

His eyes took in the empty bed, the bloody strap, the black screen on the heart monitor…

"Oh, shit."

* * *

**Author's Note: **You didn't think I'd actually make it easy on them, did you? :P lol More tomorrow! And yes, it is physically possible to pull a needle out of your arm with your teeth and use it to escape hospital restraints. Don't ask me how I know that. ;)


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **You guys... I'm starting to freak myself out a little. Writing crazy is coming a little too easy for me.

On a side note, as I was writing the end of this chapter, I was listening to the same song over and over again. It's really good if you need mood music while reading my story. It's called "2-1" by Imogen Heap. It really fits the mood of my story, I think. Special thanks to Love4eternity1016 for telling me about this fantastic song. I love it!

**

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**Chapter Sixteen**

Calleigh sat in the layout room, reading from Damien's notebook. He was right; some of the things Dr. Franci had dictated to him were indeed quite creepy.

As she read, Calleigh realized suddenly that it was in this very layout room that she had last seen Ryan. He had been right where she was at that moment, looking through Kelly Pickett's medical records. She sighed. She missed him. She hoped as hard as she could that this chemical formula would be the key to saving him.

Pretty much as soon as Damien had handed over the notebook, she and Horatio had made copies of the chemical compound. She had brought a copy back to the lab for Natalia and Horatio was hand-carrying another to the hospital chemists. Natalia had been beyond words when Calleigh had given her their best hope for saving Ryan, and got to work immediately.

Eric walked in, looking tired.

"Hey," she said, barely looking up from her reading.

"Natalia said you guys found a copy of the chemical composition," he said, coming to stand next to her. "She said she should be able to synthesis an antidote for Ryan."

"Yeah, it's really amazing," she remarked. "It was surprisingly simple chemistry. She said she might even have a sample in a couple hours."

"I just hope it's not too late," he said quietly.

She looked at him, her eyes as worried. They gazed at each other for a moment, knowing they were thinking the same thing.

They couldn't lose Ryan. They couldn't lose another friend.

-|x|-

A little while later, Calleigh worked alongside Eric in a different layout room. He'd set out all the evidence he'd brought from the field lab, everything from the charred contents of the firing barrel to the microscopes that had been set out on one of the tables.

"So, cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head," Eric told her. "Tom said her skull was shattered, indicating massive force with something heavy."

"And you're thinking the killer used something at the scene," Calleigh said.

Eric nodded. "I didn't find anything in the dumpster where we found her, and the blood pool in the storage unit indicates she was killed there."

"Let's just hope the killer didn't burn it," Calleigh remarked.

They searched everything, examining every angle of every piece of detritus that could have been used as a weapon. They worked in silence, concentrating. Calleigh's thoughts skittered about as she focused. She thought about Ryan, the case, how Natalia would be able to formulate an antidote, how horrible it must be for Ryan, what he was going through...

Eric's voice startled her out of her thoughts. "I got some blood and hair, here," he said.

She looked up. He was holding one of the microscopes in one hand, shining a flashlight along one of the corners of the base. Calleigh saw what he was pointing out: a small clump of red.

"So it was a weapon of opportunity," Calleigh remarked.

"Yeah, I'll dust it for prints," he said.

"Death by microscope...," she said. "That's a first."

Natalia suddenly burst into the room, looking distraught. "You guys, Ryan's missing," she blurted out, sounding out of breath. Her eyes were full of unshed tears.

They looked at her, sure they'd misheard her. "What do you mean, he's missing?" Eric asked.

"I don't know!" she said frantically. "I just got a call from Walter. Ryan's gone, he got out of the hospital!"

"I thought he was in restraints!" Calleigh cried.

"He was!" Natalia exclaimed. "I don't know, Walter didn't give me details over the phone. I'm heading over there..."

"But what about the antidote?" Calleigh reminded her.

Natalia held up a vial full of clear liquid. "Done."

"Okay, I'll go with you," Calleigh told her. She turned to Eric, who had a pained look on his face. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to go too, but he had to stay and process the microscope. They still had a killer on the loose.

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," she assured him.

He nodded reluctantly.

Calleigh and Natalia hurried from the lab.

-|x|-

When Calleigh and Natalia made it to the hospital and ran up three flights of stairs, they saw Walter, Horatio and Alexx talking to Ryan's doctor at the end of the hall. They hurried toward them.

They all looked as if they were in utter shock.

"What happened?" Calleigh demanded.

At first it seemed as if no one would answer her. Then Alexx spoke up.

"Ryan got out of his restraints and we don't know where he is," she said quietly.

Natalia left the group to go look into Ryan's room, as if she wouldn't believe it until she saw it for herself. She saw the empty bed. She saw the blood-soaked restraint that would have held his left hand. She saw the trail of tiny red droplets that led from the bed and out the door.

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"I don't understand," Calleigh pressed. "How did he get out of his restraints? Aren't those things supposed to be impossible to break out of?"

"The amount of blood on them suggests it was no easy task," Jay said.

Calleigh looked at her, speechless.

"We need to get out there and find him," Walter insisted desperately. "Who knows what could happen out there on his own!"

They all looked at Jay. The expression on her face suggested she knew _exactly _what could happen.

She looked at them, her brown eyes fearful. "He's probably reached the point where he is in a constant hallucinogenic state," she explained. "His BDNF levels will continue to fall until they are nonexistent. If he doesn't kill himself or have a heart attack from the stress of the insanity, his lungs will shut down from the lack of BDNF. Without the antipsychotic medication or the antidote, he's going to die, probably in a matter of hours."

-|x|-

Ryan's chest felt like it was on fire as he ran. He'd lost feeling in his feet a long time ago. As soon as he'd gotten out of the hospital, he'd started running and he never looked back. The sun would be going down soon, and not many people were still out. Ryan was grateful for that.

He couldn't let them get anyone else. As long as Ryan contained them until he killed them, no one else would get hurt.

He was soaked in his own sweat. It stung the cuts on his wrist almost unbearably, but he couldn't stop running. His left shoulder felt like someone was stabbing him, causing his breath to hitch in his chest with the pain, which radiated down his left arm. Salty rivers of sweat poured into his eyes, half blinding him as he staggered onward. Where he was going, he wasn't exactly sure. He just knew he had to keep moving.

The sky was afire with golden hues of orange and yellow. Ryan suddenly realized he didn't know where he was. He could vaguely smell the ocean. There was a road next to him… he had to get away from that. He careened into a shadowy alleyway, his feet splashing through puddles of water.

Suddenly it was as if the world had dropped out from beneath his feet. He felt lightheaded and numb all over. Before he realized what was happening, Ryan was falling, crashing to the ground. He lay where he fell, gasping for air.

His chest burned, his leg muscles burned, everything burned. His whole body shook from exertion and blood-loss. Nausea washed over him sickeningly; if he'd had anything in his stomach, he surely would have lost it. The world seemed to spin dizzily around him as he lay there, barely clinging to consciousness.

_The signal…_

Whispers surrounded him, flowing around him, through him. So many voices, and yet he could distinguish none from another. Ryan coughed wetly, choking.

"No…" he rasped, covering his ears with his hands. "Leave me alone…"

_so softly the wolf cries… alone… all alone…_

"Shut up!" Ryan cried pitifully, curling his body into the fetal position, pressing his hands harder against his ears.

_for whom does the wolf cry… in the dark… of the world?_

Ryan felt tears once again leak from his eyes. He squeezed them shut, fighting to hold back the flood of voices in his mind.

_to die alone… all alone… in the night…_

"SHUT UP!" Ryan screamed.

_we will find you… we will always find you…_

"I'm gonna kill you!" Ryan cried weakly. His strength was swiftly running out.

_how can you kill… that which you cannot see?_

"I'll find you!" he yelled, forcing himself to his knees. He slumped there for a moment, his senses still reeling from running so fast and so far.

Ryan dug his shaking left hand into his pocket and fished out the scalpel he'd stolen from the hospital. He gazed at the silver blade and gritted his teeth.

A million voices exploded in cruel laughter inside his mind, deafening him painfully. He winced at the noise, but he forced himself to keep his grip on the blade.

"I'll find you," he snarled. His panicked gaze darted back and forth as he searched for them, knowing they were somewhere close.

There.

Ryan grinned viciously, lifting up his right hand. He stared at his palm, brandishing the scalpel in his other hand.

He took the blade and pressed it against the skin of his right palm. And then he sliced his hand open.

Blood poured out of the fresh wound, but he didn't feel any pain. That only further confirmed his fears: They were inside him, trying to take control.

He had to cut them out.

Ryan used the scalpel to push aside the sides of the gory slash on his hand, ignoring the flood of crimson fluid pouring out of it. He couldn't find them… He had to try again…

He tore his flesh open again with the scalpel, cutting a new tear right next to the first. His eyes watered, but he knew it had to be done…

Shadows began gathering at the edges of Ryan's vision. His head pounded. He coughed, feeling as if there were shards of glass lodged in his windpipe. He had to keep going, he had to find them and kill them…

The scalpel suddenly clattered to the ground as he lost feeling all throughout his body. He was falling again…

Ryan lay on the ground, feeling the ache of his mangled hand steadily throb as the warmth of wet life leaked out of it. The voices died back down to silky whispers in the back of his mind. The hard ground felt cool under his fevered head.

His eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out.

* * *

**Author's Note: **o_O


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Seventeen**

Eric worked as fast as he possibly could processing the microscope. DNA had already confirmed the blood and hair he'd found on it belonged to Dr. Franci. Now he was dusting it for prints, hoping the killer had not only left some but that they would also be in the system. It would make things go a whole lot faster.

At this point, Eric honestly couldn't care less about this case. He secretly would have loved to thank whoever had murdered Dr. Franci. Only his dedication to his work kept him moving. He wanted to abandon this tedious task and go help look for Ryan. His friend was dying out there, for all Eric knew, and he was stuck in the lab…

Eric tape-lifted the handful of prints he found on the microscope and immediately began running each one through AFIS.

He was working to find a killer, he kept telling himself. It didn't matter who the victim was. It couldn't matter…

The first three prints he ran all came back as matching Dr. Franci. Eric slid a fourth into the scanner to run it.

Where was Ryan right now? Eric couldn't help but dwell on his friend. He was sick, he needed to be in the hospital. And all because of this woman's sick experiment. If she hadn't been killed, Eric might have been tempted to do it himself. He could only imagine how scared Ryan must be, all alone…

A loud beep sounded from the computer. Eric looked at the screen. He did a double-take, sure he'd misread it. No, it was right.

Eric grinned.

-|x|-

"So," Eric said, coming into the interrogation room and taking a seat. "I'm curious. How is a guy as smart as you so dumb as to leave the murder weapon behind, with your prints on it?"

Dr. Lawrence Ambrosio looked at him acidly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Eric tossed photographs of the microscope across the table. "You killed Dr. Franci. You bashed in her skull with that microscope."

Dr. Ambrosio laughed. "You must be joking. We work in the same building, use the same labs. Of course my prints are going to be on the same equipment she used. How did you get my prints, anyway? Illegally, no doubt."

"You're in the system for assault twenty years ago," Eric said. "A young woman claimed you hit her in a domestic dispute."

Ambrosio rolled his eyes. "My crazy ex-girlfriend had a vivid imagination. I was acquitted of that charge, why were my prints still on file?"

"Fingerprint records aren't erased," Eric told him. "And we checked the serial number for this particular microscope. It was bought by Dr. Franci personally, and delivered straight to her field lab. It would have never been in your lab, so the only way you could have touched it was if you were there. And judging by the smoke I smell on you, you were in close proximity to a fire recently. Like the one I put out at Dr. Franci's lab. You were there today."

Ambrosio didn't say anything, only viewed Eric with the utmost disgust.

"You lied to me this afternoon, didn't you?" Eric hissed, leaning over the table. "You knew exactly what Dr. Franci was doing in her experiments."

Ambrosio shifted in his chair angrily. "She was going to destroy everything we had worked for!" he blurted. "She took it too far. When you told me she'd dosed a police officer, I knew it was only a matter of time before she was caught. I knew she would rat me out."

"You were her partner in the experiments," Eric said coldly.

"More like an interested supervisor," he said. "I financed her work and provided intellectual support."

"You mean you two entertained your little God complexes together," Eric snarled.

Ambrosio sneered at him. "We _are _gods," he hissed.

Eric slammed the table with his hand, making Ambrosio jump. "No, you're not!" Eric yelled. "You're sad, twisted little people who want to screw with other people's lives just because you can. You're pathetic!"

A cold light flickered in Ambrosio's eyes. He leaned across the table, a humorless smile twisted across his face.

"Is your friend dead yet?" he whispered.

Icy fury blasted through Eric's veins. His hands clenched into fists. He leaned forward too.

"If he dies, you're next," Eric hissed quietly.

Ambrosio sneered at him, amused. Eric stood up from the table, turning to the patrol officer standing in the room with them.

"Get this piece of crap out of my sight," he mumbled. The officer obeyed, stepping forward to cuff Ambrosio and lead him away to booking.

Eric looked down at his phone, seeing he had a text message from Calleigh. She was outside waiting for him in the Hummer. He smiled. She always seemed to be able to read his mind.

-|x|-

Eric hurried out of MDPD and toward the Hummer parked out front. He quickly opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. Calleigh backed it out as he threw on his seatbelt and drove off.

"Thanks for picking me up," he said.

"I figured you'd want to come along," she said, keeping her eyes on the dusky road. "So who did it?"

"That jerk from Dade U, her coworker. Turns out he was in on the whole thing," Eric told her offhandedly. "Good riddance, if you ask me."

"Yeah."

"Do we have any idea where Ryan might be?"

"We found a blood trail leading from his room down the hall, but we lost it pretty much once we got outside," she said.

"A blood trail…?" he echoed quietly.

"Yeah… He broke out of his restraints. We're still not entirely sure how."

Eric sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Wolfe's always been too smart for his own good."

"Horatio called in every available unit to assist in the search," she said. "We divvied up sectors of the city within about ten miles of the hospital. Natalia and Walter are waiting at the hospital in case he comes back for some reason. You and I have the coastline."

"So docks and beaches for us. That's one hell of a search area."

"Yep."

They drove in silence for a little.

Eric looked out the window at the dark orange sun. Shadows were lengthening everywhere.

"It's gonna be dark soon," he remarked quietly.

Calleigh didn't answer. They both knew their chances of finding Ryan in the dark were next to none.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Don't you just love how the killer always confesses at the end of the episode? :P It makes things so much easier. From here on out, it's all Ryan, all the time! The climax is coming... can you feel it? ;P


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: ***sigh* I really wish this were a real episode. So much of what I want to convey to you guys can really only be done visually and with sound. Words can only go so far :(. If you want to get a closer idea of what I was thinking of when I wrote Ryan's hallucination voices, I have an experiment for you :P. Go to your Internet browser and open about ten tabs in one page. Put them all on youtube. Then pick like ten different songs, one on each tab, preferably of the heavy metal/rap/rock/really really loud variety, then hit play on all ten all at once and crank up the volume. Seriously. Pardon my language, but it scared the shit out of me when I did it. Now pretend that stuff is blasting in your head and there's no turning it off. Yeah. That kind of gives you a little taste of what Ryan's hearing. Just a little. The rest is up to your imagination. :)**

* * *

******

Chapter Eighteen

Ryan slowly came around, every muscle in his body aching ferociously. He felt like he'd been kicked in the chest, not to mention everywhere else. His head pounded dizzily. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision.

He gradually realized he was on the ground, the coarse pavement pressing against his face. It was dark all around him. He saw the pale glimmer of streetlights on either end of the alley.

Ryan painstakingly lifted his shaking body off the ground, dragging himself up to his hands and knees. He stayed there for a moment, every muscle seeming to vibrate with exertion. He coughed wetly, hacking up mucus and bile. He spit it out.

An explosion of noise erupted inside his head. Screams. Sirens. Voices. Gunfire. It was so loud it physically pained him. Ryan cried out as he shut his eyes and pressed his hands over his ears as tight as he could, but it did nothing to quiet the din.

_**el maley rachamim shochen bam'romim**__ NONOSTOP whathaveyoudone? __**hamtzey menuchah nechonah al kanfey haschechinah**__ emanatuohtiwdlihceht willalloursinsbejustified? GOTOHELL __**bema'alot kedoshim ute'horim**__ IWANTTODIE gnilliktratsewnehw..._

Ryan staggered to his feet, his eyes watering from the noise. It was so _loud_! He slammed into a wall as he lurched about. He dropped to his knees again.

_WHATHAVEYOUDONE __**kezohar harakia me'irim umazhirim **__esolctitelt'nodthewhispers __**lenishmat Ryan**__ youtoremeapart YOUBROKETHEPROMISE snoitnetnikrad chained suffocating..._

"Shut up!" he bellowed. "Leave me alone!"

_it'swaitingalwaystrying __**shehalach le'olamo**__ ISITALLINSIDEMYHEAD? allaroundmeiseedanger CAN'TTAKEITNOMORE! __**ba'avur shekol beney hamishpachah, yedidim umakirim**__..._

"No, stop it! STOP!"

Ryan opened his eyes again and immediately wished he hadn't.

The pavement of the alley was crisscrossed with rivulets of blood. It was everywhere. The walls around him were slimy with it. A thick cloud of the heavy, metallic stench suffocated him. The dead were everywhere. They screamed at him, reached their luminescent, blood-soaked hands toward him…

_couldn'tsaveyoufromthestorm WHYDIDYOULEAVEME? seceipderettahs __**mitpalelim le'iluy nishmato**__ ican'treachmysoul..._

Ryan screamed, threw himself to his feet and took off sprinting down the alleyway. The sounds followed him like the baying of hellhounds. Sirens tore through the air, deafening him as he ran. The colors swirled together with the darkness until he couldn't tell up from down anymore, racing toward the end. Light beams exploded through the air as the screams in his head reached an unbearable volume…

_ISACRIFICEDFORYOU __**began eden tehey menuchato**__ sanctusespiritus __**lachen ba'al harachamim yastireyhu**__ ..._

Ryan darted out of the alley at full speed, blind and deaf to anything other than the visions and noises tortuously thundering through his agonized mind.

_**beseter kenafav le'olamim**__ areyougonnakillme? __**veyitzror bitzror hachayim et nismato**__**Adonai hu nachalato Veyanuach beshalom al mishkavo **__torturedbyloveandbypain THEOATHMADEHIMSTAY __**Venomar amen.**_

A loud screech exploded next to him as a wall of pain slammed into Ryan's left side, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling into the street.

-|x|-

Eric sat in silence in the passenger seat, his arm hanging out the open window. He scanned the darkness around them as Calleigh slowly drove the Hummer through every street she could find.

Once the sun had gone down, every second that passed made them more desperate to find Ryan. They knew he wouldn't last the night if they didn't get him back to the hospital.

Horatio, not to mention four other two-man units, were scouring their designated search areas. They were out of any other options. They couldn't trace Ryan's cell phone, seeing as he'd left it at the hospital. And no one they'd found on the street had seen him.

Calleigh sighed. "He could have made it out of our search grid by now," she said quietly.

Eric looked at her, seeing the worry etched deeply on her beautiful face. "We'll find him, Cal. He's here somewhere."

Her eyes were watery as she turned down a new side street. "He thinks we're trying to hurt him."

Eric didn't quite know what to say to that. He put a hand on her leg, rubbing her knee affectionately. "Ryan's a fighter. He'll be okay. Here, drive a little slower, let me get a good look down some of these alleys coming up."

Calleigh obeyed, slowing the Hummer down to a crawl. "I just hope he kept running," she said softly. "The doctor said exercise combats BDNF depletion."

Eric leaned out the window, searching the darkness for any sign of his friend. He frowned; he could have sworn he'd just heard a man's scream from not too far ahead.

"Calleigh..."

He broke off when she suddenly yelled in surprise and the Hummer screeched to a halt. Eric barely had time to catch himself before slamming into the dashboard. There was a loud thud at the front of the car. Eric looked at Calleigh; her eyes and mouth were wide with horror. She was fumbling with her seatbelt.

"Calleigh, what the..."

"Oh, my God..." she cried, practically throwing herself out of the Hummer. "I hit him!"

"What?"

She was out of the Hummer before Eric could even get his belt undone. He finally did and chased after her. The ghostly headlights of the Hummer illuminated a blood-chilling scene.

Calleigh was kneeling next to Ryan, who was sprawled on the ground, eyes closed. Eric hurried to kneel next to her. She was checking him for a pulse.

"He's okay, he's breathing," she said, utterly relieved.

"You weren't going that fast," Eric pointed out. He looked his friend over, his hatred for the two sickos responsible for this flaring as he surveyed the damage.

Ryan had a fresh cut on his forehead that was bleeding sluggishly, probably from hitting the pavement. His left wrist was slashed up pretty bad. But worst of all was his right hand. Two gory gashes ran the width of his palm, his entire hand stained dark red. Multiple blood trails ran down his forearm, though most of it had dried. A thick crust of dried blood surrounded both wounds.

Calleigh gently picked up Ryan's right hand with fingers that shook. She looked closely at the wounds in horror, then looked at Eric questioningly. He met her eyes, and nodded. They agreed: the cuts were definitely self-inflicted.

"Oh, Ryan..." Calleigh whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She laid a gentle hand on his forehead.

"He's burning up," she told Eric.

"Let's get him out of here," he said. He and Calleigh posititioned themselves around Ryan, getting ready to lift him up.

Ryan's eyes shot open. He immediately tore himself from their grasp and rolled away, staggering to his feet.

"Whoa, Ryan!" Calleigh cried. "Easy!"

Ryan stood away from them, illuminated by the headlights. He panted heavily, grimacing in pain as he clutched his left arm to his side. He was half bent over, barely able to hold himself up. He glared at them with his teeth bared, like a whipped dog ready to fight for its life. His t-shirt was dark grey, soaked in his own sweat. His skin was pale all over, his wild eyes red and sunken in.

He looked terrible.

Eric took a hesitant step toward him, hands raised in front of him. "Easy, Wolfe," he said quietly. "We're not gonna hurt you..."

"Stay away from me!" Ryan yelled.

Eric didn't relent, taking another step forward. "It's okay, we just want to help you."

Ryan's gaze darted back and forth between Eric and Calleigh, who hadn't moved. "Leave me alone...," he growled.

Eric took another step, coming within arm's reach of Ryan. "I can't do that, Wolfe. Come with us," he said, reaching out a hand and placing it on Ryan's right arm. He could feel his friend was trembling, most likely from a combination of exhaustion and fear.

Ryan gazed into Eric's eyes, as if summing him up. Eric didn't look away, silently begging his friend to trust him.

Something sparked in Ryan's eyes.

Ryan's left hand curled into a fist as he slammed it into Eric's right eye. Caught off guard, Eric fell to the ground. Ryan launched himself on top of him, punching relentlessly and bellowing like a wounded animal. Eric could barely defend himself from the furious blows raining down upon him.

"Eric!" Calleigh screamed, running forward.

Eric fought to push Ryan off of him. The two men tussled, rolling around on the pavement. Calleigh helplessly watched, completely at a loss of what to do.

"Ryan, please!" she cried. "Stop! We're trying to help you!"

Ryan suddenly tore himself away from Eric and scrambled to untangle himself from the other man, stumbling a few steps back.

Eric scrabbled to his feet and froze, realizing what had happened when there was a metallic click in front of him.

Ryan was pointing Eric's own gun at him, the hammer cocked and ready to fire. His face was grim, but set. The gun shook in his torn up right hand as he held his left arm against his side again. His breathing was ragged.

Eric put his hands up in front of him, his heart pounding in his throat.

"Calleigh, don't move," Eric said, his voice strangled. He kept his eyes on Ryan at all times.

Calleigh's hand drifted unconsciously to her own gun holster.

Ryan saw the movement. He turned to point the gun at Calleigh instead. She froze, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Hey, don't point that at her!" Eric yelled. "Look at me, Wolfe!"

Ryan glanced at him, but didn't take the gun off Calleigh. His face was painfully confused, as if he were trying to solve a particularly difficult math problem. As if he didn't understand what was going on.

"Ryan, please," Eric pleaded, fear gripping his heart. "_Please_. Point the gun at me, not her."

Ryan looked at him again. Something softened in his gaze. The gun dropped slightly.

"Eric?" he asked quietly, barely audible.

Eric and Calleigh glanced at each other in fear.

Ryan didn't even recognize them.

"Yeah, Ryan, it's me," Eric said. "It's Eric. You know me, I'm your friend."

Ryan squinted at him, as if seeing him for the first time. The gun dropped a little lower.

"Calleigh, get back in the car," Eric ordered.

"No," she said flatly.

"Calleigh..."

"No!" she repeated. "Ryan, look at us. We're your friends. Let us help you!"

Ryan's eyes watered, every limb shaking.

"Ryan, listen to me," she pressed. "We have the medicine for you. At the hospital. You'll be okay, but you have to come with us."

Ryan suddenly doubled over in pain, crying out in agony and pressing his hands to his ears. He dropped to his knees. Startled, Calleigh and Eric both took steps forward.

Ryan wildly pointed the gun at Eric. "Don't come near me!" he screamed, his face contorted in pain. "They're trying to get out, they want to get inside you too!"

"Ryan..."

"Just get away, Eric!" Ryan yelled. "You can't help me! They're after you! I can't let that happen, you're better off dead!"

A terrible silence fell after his words. The stalemate stretched on for five seconds... ten seconds...

A tear fell from Calleigh's eye. _My God, he's gonna shoot._

Eric closed his eyes, bracing himself for what he knew was coming...

A loud bang ripped through the air.

Eric jumped and opened his eyes just in time to see Ryan take off sprinting down the road. Then he found Calleigh, who was running back to the Hummer as fast as she could. He followed her, jumping back into the passenger seat as she threw it into gear and took off after Ryan.

"What happened?" he gasped. "He didn't get you, did he?"

Her face was pale; she was obviously in shock. "No," she answered shakily. "He pulled the shot off center at the last second."

Calleigh fumbled to get her phone out, her hands shaking. She handed it to Eric. "Call it in."

Eric took the phone. "All units be advised. We've located CSI Wolfe. He is in flight heading east on South Ocean Boulevard. We are in pursuit. Be advised CSI Wolfe is armed and in a severely altered state of mind. Proceed with caution."

He hung up the radio, knowing the rest of the search party would be joining them soon.

"God, Eric, I thought he was gonna kill you," Calleigh whispered.

Eric took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Me too."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Just in case you were curious, that bold type during Ryan's hallucinations is actually a Hebrew prayer I found on the Internet. It's apparently said during a funeral. The translation is as follows:

_God full of mercy who dwells on high_  
_Grant perfect rest on the wings of Your Divine Presence_  
_In the lofty heights of the holy and pure_  
_who shine as the brightness of the heavens_  
_to the soul of Ryan_  
_who has gone to his eternal rest_  
_as all his family and friends_  
_pray for the elevation of his soul._  
_His resting place shall be in the Garden of Eden._  
_Therefore, the Master of mercy will care for him_  
_under the protection of His wings for all time_  
_And bind his soul in the bond of everlasting life._  
_God is his inheritance and he will rest in peace_  
_and let us say Amen._

I thought it would add a degree of creepiness :P. And it's also a nod to Jon Togo's stint in Hebrew school as a kid. The rest of the hallucination text is just random stuff I threw together. And no, that other stuff is not random letters, it's just backwards. Actually, most of it is bits and pieces of lyrics from one particular band. A massive cyber cookie to anyone who can name the band! :P As always, thanks for reading, and please review!


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** Kudos to Love4eternity1016 for correctly getting which band I got the lyrics from! Within Temptation! Fantastic band, check them out if you haven't already. They're like Evanescence, only better :P.

For everybody who's been patiently waiting for some Ryan/Horatio interaction... This one's for you. Enjoy! :)**  


* * *

Chapter Nineteen**

Ryan ran for all he was worth. He could hear the rumble of the engine behind him, lights flashing.

A raspy growling, the wolf's gnashing jaws…

His chest exploded with pain, but he kept running as fast as he could, his feet barely touching the ground with each stride. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to get there _now_.

The road ended up ahead, he could tell by the way the streetlights ended and an utter darkness began. He saw the moon. He saw moonlight refracted a million times on an ever-moving surface.

Water.

He made for it. He had to drown them. He had to kill them at all costs.

Sirens exploded to his right as a patrol car and another Hummer came whizzing around the corner. He ran onto the slippery surface of a dock, knowing it was too narrow for the machines to follow him there, buying some time.

The gun grip was slick in his blood-drenched sweaty hand, but he refused to drop it.

It was his last chance.

-|x|-

Horatio got out of his Hummer at the end of the dock. He was quickly joined by Eric and Calleigh. The patrol officers that had made it there were drawing their guns and approaching the dock.

"Everybody stand down!" Horatio ordered. "Hold your fire. Just stay back."

The officer were confused, but obeyed.

"Are you okay?" Horatio asked Eric quietly, noticing the red swelling puffing up on his eye.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he answered. "H, he didn't even recognize us. He got my gun, he shot at us."

Horatio looked from Eric to Calleigh, who nodded in agreement with Eric's story.

"Then we need to handle this very carefully," Horatio said. "He's not going anywhere, we have him surrounded. Let me talk to him."

"Horatio…," Calleigh began worriedly, but she didn't know how to finish.

Eric looked at his brother-in-law closely, then nodded. "Be careful, H. He's not himself. He definitely could have killed me, he chose not to."

Horatio took a wary step toward the dock. "That means he's still in there somewhere, Eric."

Horatio left them, walking slowly but confidently down the dock, toward the end. The water and the sky were utterly dark around him. He felt as if he were descending into an eternal abyss of shadow.

A single lantern hung above the end of the dock, casting an eerie yellow light around the area, twinkling on the water's rippling surface. A high stack of crates was on the left. There was no sign of his CSI.

"Ryan?" Horatio called.

Ryan suddenly stepped out from behind the crates. He still held his left arm tightly against his side, obviously in pain. He held the gun up in his right hand, aiming right for Horatio's head. Horatio could see the dark streaks of dried blood that ran down his arm from the wounds on his shaking hand.

Horatio held up his hands in front of him to show they were empty. "Ryan, put the gun down," he said quietly.

The younger man said nothing in return, as if he hadn't even heard him.

_Why is a lefty holding a gun in his right hand? _Horatio thought.

With a rush of fear, Horatio realized what could be going on.

"Ryan, does your chest hurt?" he asked earnestly.

Ryan looked at him, scared and confused.

"Please, talk to me. Is there pain shooting down your left arm?" Horatio pressed.

"Stop reading my mind!" Ryan screamed.

"I'm not reading your mind," Horatio insisted. "I just noticed your holding your arm like it hurts, that's all. You could be having a heart attack."

Ryan's face indicated he didn't believe a word Horatio was saying.

"I promise I'm not reading your mind," Horatio continued. "I just noticed. That's what we do, remember? We notice things. You do it too. That's what we do at CSI. Remember?"

Something sparked painfully in Ryan's eyes. He looked utterly lost.

"Ryan, don't you remember what happened to you?" Horatio asked, his heart pounding in his chest. "You were hurt. A woman dosed you with a drug that's playing tricks on your mind. You're not yourself, Ryan…"

"Neither are you!" Ryan burst out suddenly. "You're not who you pretend to be. You're not who you say you are!"

The words physically hurt him. "Ryan, it's me. It's Horatio."

"You're not Horatio!" Ryan bellowed, brandishing the gun. "You stole him like you stole me, but you're not him. He _never_ calls me Ryan!"

Horatio's heart was breaking a little more every second. "Ryan…," he said quietly, taking a step closer. "Look at me. Look at my eyes."

Ryan didn't move, only stared at him fearfully.

"It's me," Horatio said softly, coming even closer.

A flicker of doubt crossed Ryan's face. "Horatio?" he whispered.

Horatio smiled and nodded. He held his hand out to Ryan.

Ryan's eyes widened in fear. "No!" he cried. His knees wavered and he fell to the dock. He quickly scrambled to get away from Horatio, stopping right on the very edge.

He pressed the gun to his own temple.

Horatio's blood ran cold. "No, Ryan, don't…"

"I have to!" Ryan cried desperately. "I have to kill them, it's the only way! They want to get out, they want to get inside your mind, too! I can't let that happen!"

Horatio got down on one knee, as close to Ryan as he dared. He held out a shaky hand again.

"Ryan, please… No one is going to get me," he pleaded. "I can help you, but you have to give me the gun. There's another way to get rid of them, but you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Ryan?"

Ryan blinked hard, unsure.

Horatio inched closer. "Please let me help you. Give me the gun."

Tears began pouring down Ryan's exhausted face. "But I have to kill the voices," he insisted desperately. "They want me to hurt people, they wanted me to kill Calleigh and Eric. I can't hurt people, I just can't!"

"You don't have to, Ryan," Horatio coaxed. His hand was almost close enough to reach the gun. "Come with me."

Ryan stayed where he was, his body shaking with sobs and overexertion, the gun still pressed firmly against his head.

Horatio carefully placed a hand on the barrel.

"Trust me," he said quietly.

Ryan's tortured eyes bored into his. And then he let Horatio pry the gun from his grasp.

Everything that had been building up inside him all day seemed to suddenly burst forth like water from a dam. Ryan collapsed into weeping, sobs wracking his exhausted body as the tears flowed unabated.

Horatio immediately swept him up in his protective embrace, pressing Ryan close to his chest, determined to never let anything hurt him again. He felt tears spring up behind his own eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"They won't stop!" Ryan sobbed, burying his face in Horatio's shirt. "Why won't they stop?"

"I don't know," Horatio murmured soothingly. "We'll make them stop, I promise."

"I can't do it anymore, Horatio," he cried. "It hurts too much..."

"I know," Horatio said quietly. "I know it does. I'm gonna help you, just hang on."

He held him for he didn't know how long, rocking Ryan gently as his anguished cries grew weaker. Ryan's body was limp in Horatio's arms, shivering uncontrollably as he wept. Horatio pressed his mouth into Ryan's head, closing is eyes with relief of finally having his boy back and knowing there was no way he could ever hold him tight enough.

He would have gladly taken on all of Ryan's suffering for a lifetime just to spare him one more moment of this hell.

He vaguely heard two sets of footsteps behind him. Calleigh knelt down beside them, wrapping her arms around both of them and laying her head gently next to Ryan's, wishing desperately she could erase all of his pain with a single touch. Eric crouched down beside them on the other side, placing a hand on Horatio's shoulder.

"H, the ambulance is here," he said quietly, his voice gruff with emotion.

"Okay," Horatio answered, but he made no motion to get up.

Ryan's sobs quieted, though he continued shivering in Horatio's protective embrace. Calleigh stroked his arm gently, if only just to let him know she was there, tears pooling in her own eyes.

"We're here, Ryan," she whispered. "We'll take care of you."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Awww... :') They make such a cute family. Wish they were like that more on the show. More soon, please review!


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: **Oooo Ryan, I just want to hug him. *sigh* I'm so incredibly mean.**  


* * *

Chapter Twenty**

It was some time before Horatio, Eric and Calleigh were able to calm Ryan down to the point where they could talk to him and actually get through. Horatio didn't let go of him the whole time. They finally got Ryan off the ground, but he was too weak to even hold himself up. Horatio wrapped Ryan's right arm around his neck, half carrying him slowly toward the ambulance. Calleigh supported him from the other side.

Ryan had grown deathly quiet. His eyes were only half open, barely awake. His feet barely moved, shuffling along the dock as if he no longer had the strength to lift them, allowing Calleigh and Horatio to support most of his weight. The way he winced every time he moved made Horatio suspect he had a few torn muscles.

When they got to the end of the dock, the paramedics approached cautiously, wheeling a gurney along. Ryan cringed when he saw it.

"No…" he moaned quietly, trying weakly to recoil. The pitiful sound broke Calleigh's heart.

"It's okay, Ryan," Horatio coaxed. "We're gonna take you to the hospital. You'll be okay."

Ryan was shaking his head, trembling, but he was too weak to resist being gently laid on the gurney. He squeezed his eyes shut when they started to fit the safety belts around him, strapping him down.

Horatio gripped his hand tightly. "It's okay, Ryan," he repeated softly, over and over.

"I'll go with him," Eric said quietly. "You guys need to take the Hummers anyway."

Horatio and Calleigh nodded as the paramedics gingerly loaded Ryan into the back of the ambulance. They'd been made aware of his fragile mental state. Everyone was giving them plenty of space so as not to set him off again.

"I'll call Natalia, tell her you're on the way," Calleigh said quietly.

Eric nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance after them. He looked out the window in the door at Horatio and Calleigh. They both had the same steely look of concern on their faces as the ambulance pulled away from the dock.

Eric thanked God this ordeal was finally over.

-|x|-

The ambulance was about five minutes away from the hospital. Eric sat in silence next to his friend, who was also making no noise. The paramedic in the back with them was busying herself with taking Ryan's vitals. A small twinge of concern clicked in the back of Eric's mind when he realized Ryan wasn't fighting her at all.

He leaned forward to get a closer look at his friend. Ryan was staring up at the ceiling blankly through half-open eyes. As if he was completely oblivious to what was happening around him.

"Ryan?"

No response whatsoever.

"I tell you what, Wolfe," Eric said quietly. "When you get out of the hospital, I'll treat you to a steak dinner at Morton's. What do you think about that?"

Ryan didn't even blink.

Eric swallowed and placed a hand on Ryan's arm. "Ryan, can you hear me?"

At first there was no response. Then Ryan's blank eyes slowly rolled over to look at Eric. His face was completely passive.

"You're gonna be okay, man. You understand?"

At first Ryan said nothing, just stared at Eric as if he wasn't even really seeing him. Then he whispered so softly, Eric barely heard him.

"They want me to die."

Eric's blood ran cold at those words. The way Ryan had said them… It wasn't fearful, or angry. It was… mildly matter-of-fact. As if it were a simple, off-handed remark of truth.

Eric looked at Ryan forcefully. "Don't listen to them, Wolfe, you got me? You fight them, you're stronger than they are, all right?"

Eric grabbed Ryan's hand and held on tight, though Ryan didn't grip his back.

"Just hold on to my hand, okay?" Eric said quietly. "We're gonna get through this. _You're _gonna get through this."

Ryan just continued to stare at him blankly.

And then his eyes closed.

"Ryan?"

No response.

"Hey! Wolfe, open your eyes!"

The paramedic frowned and placed her stethoscope against Ryan's chest. Her face suddenly blanched.

"He's not breathing!" she cried. She fumbled to open a breathing mask as Eric looked at her in utter bewilderment.

"What do you mean, he's not breathing?" he demanded. She handed him the mask and motioned for him to start rescue breathing. "He was fine ten seconds ago!"

"I don't know!" she said, feeling for a heartbeat. If possible, her face only grew more confused. "But his pulse is strong and steady."

Eric fitted the mask around Ryan's mouth and nose and, using the rubber bag-pump, immediately began forcing air down his friend's throat.

"Could he be having a heart attack?" he asked fearfully.

"If he is, it's not like any heart attack I've ever seen," she said, busying herself with rechecking all of his vitals. "His heart seems perfectly fine."

"He was having chest pains before…"

"Which is also common with your run-of-the-mill panic attack," she told him. "No, this isn't a heart attack… It's like he just… _decided_ to stop breathing."

Eric looked at her, dumbstruck, then looked back down at Ryan. He continued pumping air into his friend's still frame, watching his chest rise and fall with every squeeze of the bag.

"Damn it, Wolfe, don't give up!" Eric growled. "You hear me? Don't give in!"

Ryan's eyes opened ever so slightly, two thin slits of hazel barely visible. He looked at Eric meaningfully, seeming to put every last ounce of strength he had into that one look.

The cruel words emanating from within those tortured hazel eyes were plain as day.

_Just let me die_.

Eric shook his head flatly, meeting Ryan's gaze straight on.

"No, I'm not stopping," he stated quietly, still pumping air down Ryan's throat. "If you can't fight anymore, then I'll just have to fight for you."

Ryan closed his eyes again.

A single tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, trickled down the side of his face and was lost in his hair.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I revel in your fury at me right now! :P Come on, you didn't think I would let them get away that easy, did you? Lol Our boy's not out of the woods yet, oh what shall I inflict upon him next? :P


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: **Oh, will the Ryan whumping ever stop? Short answer is no. :P**  


* * *

Chapter Twenty-One**

Horatio and Calleigh followed the ambulance to the hospital. As they got out of the Hummers, Eric and the paramedics were unloading the gurney. They were shocked to see Eric was manning a respiratory bag. They hurried inside after them.

"Eric, what happened?" Calleigh called as she and Horatio tried to catch up.

He looked at her, his eyes scared. "He stopped breathing!" he yelled back over the din of the emergency room.

Alexx burst out of the trauma room and motioned for them to bring Ryan inside. A nurse moved to take the bag from Eric.

"I got it!" he growled at her.

"I'm sorry, sir, only family is allowed…"

"I _am _family!" he snapped.

"It's okay, he can come in," Alexx assured the nurse.

They rolled Ryan into the room. He didn't even seem to notice. He just lay there, his eyes half open, looking utterly apathetic to everything going on.

The doctors and nurses took positions around him, ready to lift him onto the trauma bed.

"On my count," Alexx instructed. "_Gently_. One… two… three!"

They lifted him over to the other bed. He didn't respond at all to being jostled around. Eric continued pumping air for him, trying to stay out of everybody else's way.

"Do you want to intubate?" a nurse asked Alexx.

"He's responding well to the oxygen mask," she answered. "And I don't want to traumatize his body any more than it already has been. Dr. Karishma is on her way down with the proper medication, we'll wait for her."

The nurse looked at Eric sidelong, then muttered to Alexx, "He can't bag him forever."

Eric heard. He glared at her. "Watch me."

-|x|-

"Calleigh! Horatio!"

They turned to see Natalia and Walter hurrying toward them. They'd been waiting upstairs for news. Walter hurried to look into the trauma room through the window.

Natalia made a point to look anywhere but there, remembering the promise she'd made to Ryan and fully intended to keep.

"What happened?" Walter demanded. "Why isn't he breathing?"

Natalia's eyes widened. "What?"

"Eric's using one of those bag things on him," Walter explained.

Natalia looked at Calleigh for confirmation.

"I don't know exactly what happened," Calleigh told her. "Eric just said he stopped breathing in the ambulance, but that's all he could tell us."

Natalia's chin quivered.

"Where's the antidote?" Horatio asked her.

Natalia sighed. "The hospital's scientists insisted on testing it thoroughly before clearing it for use. Dr. Karishma's upstairs sitting on them until they hand it back over. She said if they're not done in five minutes, she's physically taking it from them."

-|x|-

Inside the trauma room, one of the nurses took out a pair of scissors and began cutting off Ryan's shirt.

Eric spoke to Ryan quietly, trying desperately to get him to listen. He seemed so out of it, so… dead. He just looked up at the ceiling blankly, not even blinking.

Machines were beeping all over the place. People were shouting. Ambulance sirens could be heard out the window. None of it seemed to bother Ryan.

And then a nurse went to start an IV.

As soon as the needle pricked his skin, his eyes widened in terror. Eric noticed.

"It's okay, Ryan," he said soothingly.

Ryan started shaking his head weakly over and over again. Tears began pooling in his eyes again. He gazed up at Eric pleadingly, still shaking his head.

Eric looked at him meaningfully. "It's okay," he repeated.

Alexx appeared by his side. "Ryan, baby, listen to me," she murmured, stroking his hair. "It'll be over soon, I promise."

"We should put him out," another doctor suddenly said. "Push 5 mgs haldol."

Before Alexx had a chance to reprimand the doctor for speaking out so carelessly, Ryan's eyes widened even more.

He knew exactly what that meant.

Hacking coughs exploded from Ryan's mouth as he gasped for air on his own. Startled, Eric took the mask off. The heart monitor went haywire.

Before anyone grasped what was going on, Ryan shot up from the gurney. And then before anyone could get their hands on him to push him back down again, Ryan was scrambling to get off.

He swung his feet over one side, kicking a doctor out of the way and knocking over a tray, and stumbled forward. A few people tried vainly to put their hands on him, but he was too strong for their grip, his muscles fueled by panic and madness.

His feet barely touched the ground when Eric tackled him to the ground.

The two men grappled on the floor as a nurse scrambled to fill a syringe with sedatives.

Eric held Ryan down as hard as he could, trying desperately not to hurt him in the process. Ryan was bellowing incoherently like a trapped wild animal, fighting Eric's hold tooth and nail. Despite having three inches and about fifteen pounds on Ryan, Eric was having a very hard time keeping him under control.

"Calm down, Wolfe!" Eric yelled into his friend's ear. He doubted Ryan could even hear him over his own cries.

"No more needles!" Ryan screamed.

"They need to give you medicine to make you better!"

"NO!"

-|x|-

Natalia shakily sank into a chair outside, not even bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes as they fell. She shut her eyes and covered her ears against Ryan's agonized cries from within the trauma room.

She'd promised.

Jay suddenly burst out of the stairwell, a vial in her hand. She saw the CSIs waiting outside the room and hurried toward them. She nodded to them as she disappeared inside.

She was shocked to find Ryan on the floor, screaming and being pinned down by another man she didn't recognize. Alexx was descending upon them hurriedly, a syringe in her hand and tears in her eyes. Jay stood there and watched, startled into forgetting why she was even there.

Alexx got down on the floor right next to Ryan, who was still fighting Eric with all his might.

"Ryan, I have to give you a shot," she explained desperately. "It's not going to hurt you, I promise."

He just continued crying out, tears dripping from his eyes as he desperately shook his head, moaning desperately. "No, no, no, no…"

She rubbed a spot on his arm with an alcohol wipe.

"Forgive me, baby," she whispered, then injected him with the sedatives.

Ryan's cries weakened, and soon his attempts to free himself from Eric's hold grew feebler. Then they stopped altogether, his eyes closing.

Eric helped the medical team lift up Ryan's limp body and place him back on the bed. Two nurses immediately began fastening hard restraints to his wrists and ankles. Eric stood back, suddenly feeling useless.

Jay finally found her voice. "Everything all right in here?" she asked dryly.

Alexx was relieved to see her. "Do you have the antidote?"

Jay nodded, taking up a syringe and beginning to fill it from the vial. "Had to pry it from toxicology's cold dead grip. They somehow failed to see the emergent nature of the situation."

Jay injected Ryan with the antidote, a hearty dose.

"Is that gonna cure him?" Eric asked.

Jay looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"Eric Delko, CSI."

"Ah, another one. There seems to be an awful lot of you around here lately. Yes, I think this will cure Ryan. The testing was very successful. Your colleague Miss Boa Vista certainly knows her chemistry."

"When will we know for sure?" Alexx asked.

Jay looked at her, a small spark of concern in her eyes. "When he wakes up, I suppose. We'll move him upstairs 'til then. It could be a few hours."

Eric noticed Horatio was looking through the glass window into the trauma room, watching everything closely, his face like stone. He caught his eye.

Eric nodded.

Horatio nodded back.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So they have the cure, or so they think. Does that mean Ryan's finally okay? Does it? DOES IT? lol tune in tomorrow to find out.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Jay carefully measured out Ryan's next dose of the antidote in the pharmacy. She was keeping the vial in the pocket of her lab coat the whole time, but she was required to fill syringes in this room. She was hopeful, a rarity for her. But she fought to keep those kinds of optimistic feelings from affecting her. It hurt too much when they turned out wrong. And there was still a big question mark where Ryan Wolfe was concerned.

"Jayashi? May I speak with you for a moment?"

Jay looked up to see her supervisor, Dr. Ritz, standing in the doorway, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

Heat rose in Jay's neck and face, knowing she should have been expecting this. She fought to still the fluttering in her heart.

"What can I do for you, Edward?" Jay asked mildly, struggling to keep her voice even.

"Don't play innocent with me, you know exactly why I'm here."

Jay looked at the floor, finishing measuring out Ryan's dose and pocketing the needle and vial. She braced herself for the onslaught.

"Can you tell me why toxicology is in an uproar and Dr. Bennett is now icing his possibly sprained wrist?" Dr. Ritz demanded.

With her eyes on the floor, Jay didn't notice the corners of Dr. Ritz's mouth twitch, suppressing a grin.

Jay hadn't felt this bashful in the presence of a superior since her schoolgirl days. "They were taking too long and my patient needed this medication," she mumbled, shamefaced.

"You _stole_ medication from toxicology, without letting them finish the testing, and used it on a patient?"

Jay nodded, speechless.

"And Dr. Bennett's wrist?" Edward prodded, smirking now despite himself.

Jay sighed, knowing she was done for, her gaze still fixed on the ground. "He wouldn't hand over the vial I asked for. My patient was dying downstairs. He was taking too long, so I took it from him."

"By trying to twist his wrist off?" Edward asked mildly. "Using what, karate?"

Jay sighed again. "Jujitsu."

There was a terrible moment of silence. Jay wished she could dig a hole in the floor with her gaze and hide in it. She didn't dare look at Dr. Ritz.

A sudden chuckle made her look up, astonished. Edward was _laughing_.

"Jayashi, in the three years you've been here, I've never even heard you raise your voice to someone. And here you are using martial arts on pharmacists to get medicine for your patient?"

Jay felt the color rising in her cheeks, realizing how ridiculous the whole thing was.

"Am I fired?" she asked quietly.

Dr. Ritz held up a hand. "Jayashi, we fire people for _killing _patients, not saving them. You'll receive an official reprimand in your file, and you may have to face a review board for your actions. But I think any disciplinary measures taken will be minor, given your sterling record."

Jay nodded, shocked that her luck could be that good. "And Dr. Bennett?" she asked disbelievingly.

"I think he'd be happy if you just stay away from him for a while," Dr. Ritz said wryly. "You scared him more than anything."

Dr. Ritz turned to go, leaving a stunned Jay rooted to the spot in disbelief. He turned back for a moment.

"He must be a very special patient," he remarked knowingly, meeting Jay's gaze with a twinkle in his eye.

Jay gave him a half-smile, knowing that if anyone could understand, Edward could.

"He is," she said quietly.

-|x|-

Time always seemed to move differently in hospitals.

It wasn't steady like it was everywhere else. It was either moving faster than light, when life was lost or gained in a matter of half-seconds, or it wasn't moving at all. The world kept spinning outside.

Not in here.

Natalia gazed at Ryan's still form lying on the bed. He was finally resting peacefully, sleeping for going on three hours now, with no sign of waking up anytime soon. He slept like only the most profoundly exhausted sleep. He was still pale and looked terribly haunted, but at least he'd stopped mumbling and moaning in his sleep.

Jay was administering measured doses of the antidote at intervals, not wanting to drown his system in it. According to her and the blood tests she took from him every hour, he was responding well to the treatment. His BDNF levels were back on the rise. His vitals were stabilizing. His brain activity was coming back to normal.

But it still broke Natalia's heart to see him in restraints.

The rest of the team stood or sat around her, all silently watching. Horatio stood in the corner, statue-like. Calleigh and Eric sat together on the other side of the bed as Natalia. Walter stood behind her, leaning against the wall. Alexx was in a chair next to Natalia. They were all incredibly thankful to be off the clock, meaning they could be here and not at work.

Natalia missed her friend.

It was an odd feeling, seeing as he was lying right there in front of her. His hand was in hers. He was there. She was there. And yet, she couldn't help but wonder...

Was this really her friend?

How could she know if, when he finally woke up again, her antidote had really fixed him? His vitals and tests and all that medical stuff were saying he was getting better, but they couldn't measure the insubstantial, his mind...

Would he be the same Ryan?

The one who made her laugh. The one who always looked out for her. The one she smuggled milkshakes into hospitals for. The one who held her as she cried...

Natalia felt tears well up in her eyes again. She couldn't stand the thought of losing that Ryan, her friend.

Jay came into the room with the next dose of the antidote and to take Ryan's next blood sample.

How many hours had gone by? Natalia had lost count a long time ago. She looked at her watch, and was startled to see it was almost three in the morning. Surely something should have happened by now.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Natalia suddenly asked, her voice cracking.

The question almost seemed to startle Jay. She looked around at the team, all of whom were looking at her now. They'd obviously all been thinking the same thing.

Jay framed her words carefully, reminding herself that she was the professional here. She dealt in facts, science. Not miracles.

"Physically, I think so," she said. "Mentally..."

Their faces fell when her voice trailed off like that, their fears confirmed.

"You mean there's a chance he could be like this... forever?" Walter asked quietly.

"I can't say," Jay answered honestly. "This is completely unprecedented. Naturally occurring BDNF deficiencies, which do typically manifest in psychotic disorders, are genetic. There has never been a case before of artificial psychosis. It's also different from hallucinations brought about by drugs or dehydration and the like."

Jay looked down at Ryan, sadness settling in her heart. But she kept her voice steady and her face straight. "We may never know the extent of strain his mind was put under. He may have been able to hold onto his sanity through this whole thing, or there may have been a fracture of his subconscious. It's how the mind defends itself from the stress. It destroys itself. We won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"And we'll know right away... if he's still crazy?" Eric asked, Calleigh's hand in his.

Jay nodded. "I believe so, yes."

-|x|-

Ryan stirred ever so slightly.

Everyone in the room froze. They were worried. They were stressed to their limit. They were scared. None of them could stand to see any more madness from their friend.

Two hazel eyes opened blearily, not quite seeing yet.

Natalia held her breath.

Those eyes turned to look at her.

And then Ryan smiled weakly. "Hey."

Natalia grinned, letting out the breath she'd been holding in what sounded more like a relieved sob. She quickly flicked the tears from her face. "Hey yourself."

Ryan turned to look around at everyone else around his bed, seeming dazed. In all honesty, he was a little surprised to see them all there. It wasn't like he was on his deathbed or anything... Not to his knowledge, anyway.

He winced and groaned when he made the mistake of trying to move. Every muscle and joint in his body creaked in protest like rusty hinges. His head throbbed.

"How you feeling, baby?" Alexx asked.

"Like I got hit by a train," he retorted dryly. His voice was thick and raspy.

"Or a Hummer," Eric muttered wryly. Calleigh kicked him.

Ryan closed his eyes again, his mind a blur. His whole body ached. From what, he had no idea. He felt as if there a million needles sticking into every muscle, especially in his legs. Scattered memories flickered across his mind, but none of them seemed to make sense.

Ryan lifted his hand to rub his eyes. He was startled when it stopped abruptly, strapped to the bed-frame by something. He opened his eyes to see the thick leather restraint secured around his wrist. His eyes widened.

"Whoa... bad night?" he asked, a little frightened.

The others looked at each other, their faces concerned.

"Don't you remember anything?" Calleigh asked.

Ryan thought hard, though the effort just made his head throb harder. "Bits and pieces... sounds... light... and... did I get hit by a car?"

"Yeah, that'd be Calleigh's fault," Eric said dryly. Calleigh glared at him.

"Technically, it was _your_ fault," she told Ryan defensively. "For running out into the street without looking both ways."

Ryan grinned amusedly. He suddenly noticed Eric's very colorful black eye.

"Dude, what happened to your face?"

"_You_ happened to it, smartass."

"_I_ did that? Damn. If I gave you a shiner, why did you promise me a steak dinner?"

Eric's jaw dropped in disbelief. "_That_ you remember, but almost taking my head off, nothing?" he demanded.

Ryan painstakingly shrugged. "You must have done _something _to deserve it."

Eric snorted.

A wave of exhaustion washed over Ryan. His eyelids started drooping, no matter how much he really wanted to stay awake with his friends. He couldn't remember much of what had happened, but every one of his deepest instincts told him he'd come incredibly close to losing everything that night.

His mind... His life...

"You should get some rest, baby," Alexx said, standing up. She started undoing the restraint that was holding down his left hand.

"Wait!" Ryan suddenly said fearfully. "Maybe those should stay on a little longer. You know, just to be sure..."

Alexx smiled at him. "And that's exactly why I know they can come off now."

Ryan didn't argue further. He let her undo the straps on his left side. Calleigh helped her by undoing the ones on the other side. Once he was free, Ryan idly flexed his hands. A jolt of pain shot through his right hand at the movement. Surprised, he lifted that hand to take a look at it.

It was swathed in a clean white bandage. Then he noticed his left wrist was also wrapped up. He frowned, trying to grasp the memory of what had happened, but his mind was growing fuzzier by the moment. He really needed to sleep.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Natalia promised quietly.

He looked up at them, startled out of his thoughts. "All of you?" he asked, sounding surprised and a little concerned.

His friends all smiled at him.

His family.

Sleep crept up on him as if he were sinking into a warm bath.

"Am I okay?" Ryan murmured, his eyes closing again.

At first there was no answer. The sounds of the room began to fade.

From far off in the distance came a very familiar voice.

"You are now, Mr. Wolfe. You are now."

**THE END.

* * *

**

**Author's Note: ***sigh* With the end of this story goes a little piece of my heart. I loved writing it. I hope you loved reading it just as much. At the persuasion of a few of my beloved readers, I'm going to try to pitch it to CBS as an episode. I'm not holding my breath :P. They shot me down pretty quick last time, but I guess I'll just have to try harder. I'll let you know what happens. Wish me luck! ;)

Ideas are already sneaking into my head for a sequel... but it won't be out for a long, long time, like definitely not until after the new season starts in September (SO EXCITED). I'm taking a break from writing for a while. I might crank out a oneshot or two, but no long stories for a while. But I'll be back. I'll always be back. :)

Thank you so much for all the love and support. I love you all so much. You have no idea how much you all brighten my day. In the meantime, keep writing! I love reading all of your work too!


	24. AN

Hey everybody!

Just wanted to post on here that the first installment of my sequel to "Demons" is up and raring to be read! :P If you liked "Demons," I really think you're going to love "The Madness Within." It's gonna be grittier, scarier, more suspenseful and more action-packed than anything I've ever written before!

So go check it out!

:D


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